


Hide No More

by AKMars



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Explicit Sex, First Time, Forced Bonding, Forced Heat, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, Logan Pierce is a douchebag, M/M, No M-Preg, Reese is a major BAMF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKMars/pseuds/AKMars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Person of Interest AU set in the Alpha/Omega-verse.  Harold is kidnapped and forced to come to terms with himself in the most fundamental way possible.  Please heed the warnings and additional tags, things are going to get very messy, grim and awful before they get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clouded Mirrors

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter I: Clouded Mirrors  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold Finch/Logan Pierce  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, knotting, angst, first time, hurt/comfort, Reese is a major BAMF, Logan Pierce is a douche....as always, no m-preg in this fic

Notes: This is my first attempt at an alpha/omega-verse fic. In my take on the A/O setting, male omegas are not capable of becoming pregnant. My full interpretation of the A/O world would take a couple of pages to write so things will just pop up in the course of the story instead. 

There obviously is some canon divergence, A/O itself is AU in any case but the short list is: no Grace, Harold & Nathan part ways in college and re-unite much later in life to build the Machine. Thanks to kmmerc for encouraging me to keep plugging away at this!

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_present; undisclosed location_

Finch's head had ceased to throb, although his muscles still remained sore from the effects of the stun gun his assailants had used to subdue him hours ago. Harold leaned against one wall of the cell he'd been deposited within. He could hear voices outside the steel door and, moving as quietly as he could, limped over to press his ear to the small latticed vent in its center.

_“Did anyone follow you?”_

_“No sir. We were in and out in under thirty seconds, smooth as silk.”_

_“Fantastic. We’re done; you've been paid, now get out.”_

Harold backed away from the door as three sets of footsteps receded into the distance. He recognized the haughty, smug tone at once. _Logan Pierce?_ Of all people Finch might suspect of taking him, the spoiled, self-indulgent internet entrepreneur was the last one that came to mind. True Pierce had shown intense interest in both John and Harold while they were safeguarding him; asking very pointed questions in the process but nothing had come of it. The man couldn't possibly think Harold would be willing to talk now to gain his freedom; it would be absurd in the extreme on Pierce's part.

_What was his game?_

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_six hours earlier, the library_

John Reese stood in front of Finch's workstation, hands clenched at his sides. The alpha struggled to control his instincts to tear New York wide open to find his packmate. All his CIA training still left him unprepared for the shock of loss he felt at Harold's disappearance. The beta had, without effort or intent on his part, so thoroughly ingrained himself in Reese’s world that without Finch, the alpha felt as if he were missing a hand or foot. 

Reese explored every avenue he could think of and, coming up with nothing on his own, now realized it was time to solicit help from a higher power.

“We’ve had this talk before...do you really want to go through it again?” The op’s voice was implacable, anger seeping coldly through his words. He stared at the monitor in front of him, its cursor blinking steadily. “I meant what I said back then; you _know_ what I’ll do.”

_John saw again Finch crumpled on the cold marble floor of the train station...his worst fears scrabbling across his brain even as he knelt by the beta's side to check him for injuries._

_Samantha Groves had slipped away into the crowd but Reese spared no thoughts for her possible recapture. His full attention was on the protection of his pack, **his** beta and of getting Finch safely back home._

_The self-styled 'Root' had taken Harold with the intention of cajoling him to join the rogue beta hacker in 'freeing' his Machine from the government's virtual chains._

 

At last, text scrolled across the black screen:

 

 **status: admin missing  
** **asset: Reese, John**  
**inquiry: asset assistance requested**  
**action: disregard request/continuity disruption**  
**probability-99%....recalculating variables...**  
**action: relay video archive, cam9473-A**

 

The op glanced down as his phone chirped. "That wasn't so hard, was it."

John opened the vid-link and watched Finch limping along the street opposite their lair. Just as he was about to cross a dark gray, unmarked van pulled up to the curb and two men jumped out.

One threw a hood over the recluse's head, the other pressed a stun gun to his neck. Reese growled as Harold went limp before he was dragged into the vehicle. The van sped off up the street to disappear in the mélange of early morning delivery trucks. The time signature showed four hours ago, which was just after the last conversation Reese had with the recluse. John opened his mouth but before he could even speak the words, a close up shot of the van’s rear plate popped up on his screen.

John grunted in surprise, exiting the library even as he dialed Fusco’s number. He glanced up at the camera on the corner, it's red light blinking twice at him. 

“Glad to see you’ve finally realized it’s easier to co-operate.”

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_present; undisclosed location_

Finch felt a twinge in the pit of his belly that he hadn't for more than two decades. He gasped, clutching his abdomen in denial. 

_I'm going into heat.....but that's not possible. I just had my suppressant shot a month ago-_

Finch groaned, doubling over as the pain came again. He staggered to the cot, falling gracelessly onto the thin mattress. The reason for his abduction fell into place at last. 

_Harold knew the insufferable 'nouveau riche' Logan Pierce was alpha as soon as the man confronted his partner at the charity auction. Later, when he oozed out of the shadows taking Finch and Reese by surprise on the street, the alpha had absolutely reeked of self-satisfaction. The cocky, thirty-something media exec looked Finch up and down like a prize piece of meat. Harold had the feeling that in spite of the pheromone blockers allowing him to pass as beta, Pierce knew exactly what Finch was._

_The recluse was never more relieved to have the ex-op at his side. John stepped between his partner and the other man; exuding a tendril of his own aura at the intruder. The older alpha's dominance forced Pierce into taking a half-step back. Logan recovered enough to exchange a few quips with the mysterious pair before vanishing with Reese in tow to his 'safe' location half a world away._

_Harold summarily dismissed the whole encounter after the plot to murder Pierce was successfully dealt with. Then John showed his boss the mogul’s parting gift._

_Finch, in a rare fit of possessive pique, crushed the watch underfoot; secretly enjoying John’s rare expression of surprise. Harold’s revelation of the GPS device contained within the expensive timepiece kicked Reese’s protective instincts into high gear and, also to Finch’s smug pleasure, destroyed any goodwill towards Logan Pierce the op might have been harboring._

_Pierce then dropped off their radar, to all appearances focused once again on his internet empire and furthering the increase of his income. Harold and John thought no more about him as they continued their own mission to help the numbers Finch’s Machine gave them._

Somehow, Pierce had found a way to counteract Harold’s suppressants. Finch concentrated, doing his best to recall any new food or drink he might have ingested; different restaurants he may have frequented or- _dear God, the books!_

Many months ago Finch became aware of an up and coming online purveyor specializing in rare and first editions. Pleased with the website’s offerings, he made the first of many purchases from the dealer, all using the identity of Harold Wren. Each new addition to his library was lovingly examined, its covers stroked with appreciation, its pages turned with reverent fingers; bringing him into contact with.... _a substance, applied to the books._

For the better part of a year Finch had apparently absorbed an unknown drug through his skin. When Harold's next dose of suppressants was due, the prolonged exposure to foreign chemicals exacted its toll. The cocktail of hormone blockers Finch relied upon to maintain his deception was neutralized. After over twenty years of suppression, Harold's body was succumbing to its natural urges hard and fast.

Harold pummeled his brain, struggling to figure out how exactly Pierce managed to carry out his plan. _The Machine would have picked up on what he was doing....this was pre-meditated obviously; a scheme requiring meticulous preparation. The Machine would have given us warning about-_

Finch’s train of thought ground to a halt, the cold fear in his guts momentarily overpowering the pain of his on-setting condition. _Except that he, Harold Finch had specifically told his creation not to actively protect him._ True to the limitations imposed by its Admin, the Machine did not flag Harold’s number. Finch's decision would exact a heavy price from him now, it seemed.

_Logan Pierce doesn’t know about the Machine...or the extent of my work with John. But he **does** know we get our information from somewhere._

Harold’s body folded in on itself, the pains increasing in frequency and strength. _He plans to force a bond on me._ Sweat broke out over Finch’s brow as his guts churned in agony. _If he succeeds, he’ll learn everything. All he’ll have to do is order me to tell him._

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_**twenty-five years prior** _

_Ever since Nathan announced his intention to marry Olivia, Harold had foresworn his omega nature. He toyed with developing a heat suppressant while still in college; reasoning that allowing omegas to expand their range of opportunities would benefit society as a whole. Finch shelved his research after being assigned Nathan as a roommate. The lanky, aristocratic oil-baron’s heir was the most charming and handsome alpha Harold had ever met; not to mention the first he actually wanted to get to know._

_The young men felt a mutual attraction almost at once and although Ingram enthusiastically shared Finch’s heats, they refrained from bonding. Harold because he wanted to get his degree and go into business first and Nathan.....in obedience to his family’s expectations of continuing the Ingram line._

_“Harold...I’m sorry.” The regret in Nathan’s face was genuine but Finch knew by looking at him that it wasn’t going to change his roommate's decision._

_“Our dads have had me and ‘Livi paired up since we were in diapers. I have to do this."_

_"She's not even omega, Nathan. How can marriage to a beta be preferable to a bond?" Harold hated the desperation coloring his voice but finding the foundations of their budding relationship toppling like a house of cards around him was too much for the introverted computer science student to bear._

_Ingram's lips thinned. "You know why." The spectre of two unspoken words hung between them and Nathan refused to meet his roommate's eyes; his voice barely a whisper. Harold felt a cold lump of humiliation settle in his stomach. For the first time in his life, he felt inferior because of his male omega presentation._

_"I’m not smart like you, Harold. I need my family’s money...I won’t make it otherwise.”_

_Finch left that night while Nathan was at the movies with his bride to be. He dropped off the grid, devoting all his energies into perfecting his hormone suppressant until at last he was ready to test it on himself. When two years passed without a cycle, Finch felt confident he had the correct mixture. 'Harold Wren' surfaced in New York and thanks to the nest egg he’d amassed through day-trading under his alias, rapidly began making a name for himself as a shrewd innovator in the field of insurance._

_His 'public' face established, Harold continued to pursue his true interests in computer programming as he built a side company anonymously; one specializing in sophisticated systems and pioneering artificial intelligence. He named it IFT, in melancholy homage to the business he envisioned creating with the man he hoped would become his bond-mate._

_**ten years prior** _

_That same man world-weary, disillusioned and fifteen years older, now sat in the common area of IFT's HR department. His marriage over thanks to excessive drinking and a predilection for expensive 'Heaters', male omega escorts catering to unbonded alphas; Nathan Ingram (newly disinherited and in disgrace) had used a portion of his remaining money on a one-way ticket to New York._

_He'd dusted off his computer science degree and now, in his late forties, sent résumés out to every tech house he found. He'd heard great things about IFT, knew the company was one of the big dogs in the field and even its entry-level coding positions paid better than most._

_Finch, who recognized him the moment Nathan walked through the building's lobby, made sure he was given an interview and hired on the spot; all without revealing himself to the alpha he once trusted._

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_present, undisclosed location_

Harold Finch lay shivering on the prison cot, cocooned in a worn, woven-cotton throw as he attempted to keep his body heat from dissipating. Despite being chilled, Finch had removed his jacket, waistcoat, shirt and shoes...the deepening of his heat cycle making excessive clothing feel overly restrictive. 

The cramps settled into an almost continual dull ache and Harold became aware of a vague restlessness creeping over him. He kept shifting positions on the flimsy mattress in a vain attempt to ease the pain in his midriff. The fact that he knew down to the minute what would happen was of no comfort. 

Pierce was biding his time. Finch had no doubt now that he was under video surveillance and the moment he was most receptive to alpha pheromones, would be when the man made his appearance. 

The recluse was facing another 48 hours of solitude. At least he was being fed; a meal tray had been pushed through the opening at the bottom of the door once already. The cramps would ease by the following evening when Finch’s real hell began as the sexual cravings kicked in. He would start self-lubricating shortly thereafter and then....

_When Logan Pierce shows himself I will be facedown on the floor, ready to submit to the first un-bonded alpha that enters this room._ Shame and self-loathing writhed in his guts, making his face burn scarlet at the knowledge that he was truly powerless to stop what was to come. Harold knew that in the end he would beg for Pierce’s knot like the basest of whores. When his captor did finally take him, Finch would thank him with broken words of sincere gratitude. 

Harold nearly vomited at the thought; unwanted tears pricking his eyes. Once the bond was set and his heat had passed Finch would hate Pierce, hate himself and his situation. That would be all he _could_ do. Not even Reese could save him then.

_John..._

The irony that the only person capable of rescuing him at all happened to be the most dominant alpha he'd ever met was not lost on Finch. He'd been so wary of Reese in the beginning, treating the man with the same cautious respect he would any large and dangerous predator.

John Reese's natural instincts to protect and defend were all but burned out of him thanks to the CIA. What military training had begun, the 'Company' continued until nothing except an alpha's drive to fight and kill remained active. It was only due to John's ex-omega contacting him for help that his dormant facets re-kindled at all. Even then, it happened too late to save Jessica. Losing his omega a second time due to her death was too much for Reese to accept and he walked away from the CIA; disappearing into the anonymous ranks of the homeless.

In his wildest dreams of success, Harold could not have imagined that this 'rogue' alpha would prove resilient enough to accept Finch as pack in any capacity, let alone as its leader. Yet this is exactly what John had done; relying on the ‘beta’s’ intel and gift for strategy while he, the alpha, did what needed to be done to assist the numbers.

John Reese had in fact done much, much more. The alpha became not only the recluse’s most valuable asset but a friend as well; one that Harold found more than deserving of his trust. John’s subsequent abduction by his former partner Kara Stanton and his incarceration at Rikers all affected Harold deeply.

He knew John felt protective of him; even cared for him. For himself....Finch now began to acknowledge his feelings towards Reese ran far beyond the fraternal boundaries of friendship.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: So here is the beginning of the thing, for better or for worse, lol. Having male omegas not be able to become pregnant does have a purpose in this work. However, I do have a Rinch m-preg story (not an alpha/omega-verse one) in the works which I hope will see the light of day very soon.


	2. Warped Reflections

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter II: Warped Reflections  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold Finch/Logan Pierce  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, knotting, angst, first time, hurt/comfort, Reese is a major BAMF, Logan Pierce is a douche....as always, no m-preg in this fic

NOTES: This second chapter is shorter and told entirely in flashbacks of Nathan’s life just after he is hired by IFT, without knowing that it is Harold’s company. Maison de Ganymede is a an exclusive escort house catering to alphas and specializing in fantasy ‘scenes’.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_ten years ago: Maison de Ganymede, NYC_

Nathan Ingram examined the room, impressed in spite of himself. Everything was perfect, down to the vintage computer parts scattered over one of the wall desks. His lips twisted in wry amusement. 

_I dropped the last of my savings on this scenario, it damn well **better** be as perfect as possible._ , he thought as he headed towards the preparation room reserved for him. As he changed clothes, Nathan lost himself in the 70s pop music playing quietly over recessed speakers in the ceiling. Now clad in a worn pair of jeans, sneakers and a ghastly plaid button up shirt, he slung a canvas backpack across his shoulder and waited.

_I can't think of a better way to celebrate though. One month ago IFT hired me. At least if I'm gonna go from multi-millionaire to wage slave I can have one last hurrah._

After a few minutes a green light blinked next to the side door and Nathan grinned, a sparkle of youthful enthusiasm lighting up his face. He opened it and moved down a short hallway back to the other room. 

In his mind, he had just finished his last class of the day and was heading back to his dorm....and his roommate. He stepped inside the ‘dorm room’ and found himself looking fifteen years into the past. Nathan’s heart threatened to leap out of his chest as he stared at the figure fiddling with bits of hardware, thick Coke-bottle glasses slipping down the prominent nose and the thatch of dark brown hair sticking out in all directions.

His roommate’s head turned towards the door and the slight, lopsided smile offered in greeting before its owner returned to his interrupted task nearly brought Ingram to his knees.

_It is perfect...it’s him..._ and Nathan fell into the scene without further thought or hesitation. This time he would find again what he’d been craving so desperately for so long. 

_**fifteen minutes later** _

 

"Damn-it, I can't concentrate." The slender 20 year-old slammed his hands on his desk in frustration; cheeks flushed and sweat starting to glisten on his forehead.

"What's wrong Harold?" Nathan looked up from the sports magazine he'd been reading as he sprawled along his bed.

His roommate turned in his chair, blue eyes guarded behind the thick lenses of his glasses. "It's....I'm...", he broke off dropping his gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

"You're going into heat?"

The other nodded, still keeping his eyes locked on the ugly colored tiles. His fists clenched and he pushed his hands in his lap to hide his burgeoning erection.

Nathan put his magazine aside and moved over to where his friend sat trembling in reaction. He knelt down next to his roommate, putting a finger under his chin to lift his head. The pale eyes now sparkled with fever, his gaze running hungrily over the alpha kneeling at his side.

"You want me to take care of it?"

A quiet whimper was his only reply and Nathan's grip tightened on his friend's chin.

"You have to say it, you know the campus rules. Hell, you probably _memorized_ them before orientation was over."

His roommate turned away, mumbling something incoherent into Ingram's palm.

"What was that?"

"I.....I want you to knot me." The words were barely a whisper, heavy with misery and shame. A jolt of desire burned straight to Nathan's cock.

"Take off your clothes, Harold."

The smaller man looked up, mortified. "But...but the windows! Someone might see!"

"So? In this dorm alone eighty percent of the residents are knotting each other. Why do you think MIT puts alphas and omegas together?" Nathan stood up and leaned back against his desk, arms crossed. 

"It's the easiest way to keep the student body focused on their educations."

His gaze hardened. "Now strip, Harold. Otherwise I'll stand here and watch you try to take care of things yourself."

 

Afterwards, Nathan sat at the flimsy dinette table in his efficiency loft, staring down a half-empty bottle of scotch and wondering exactly how in the hell his life had disintegrated so badly. The scene _had_ been perfect; right up until the moment he'd awoken in a dorm-room bed surrounded by the scent of sated omega. An omega that was decidedly _not Harold_.

Ingram had slipped out while the escort was still sleeping, not bothering to look back as he headed to the changing area. When the lobby concierge asked him if all was to his satisfaction, he'd nodded and thanked the man courteously. How could he do otherwise? The brothel had given him everything he'd asked for....except the one thing he really wanted and would never again have.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_24 hours later_

IFT's newest employee paced with restless agitation back and forth in the conference room. Outrageously thick carpet silenced his steps enough so that the only sound was that of his own rapid breathing. Nathan had no idea why his supervisor had pulled him from his cubicle and told him to report here. He prayed that it wasn't for performance reasons.

Ingram shook his head. _I've worked my ass off; taken on extra jobs, filled in for sick employees....it can't be to tell me I'm fired._ Mr. Pemberly hadn't offered an explanation and Nathan hadn't asked. It was always better not to appear too smug or guilty; either would have been blood in the water to the middle-management sharks.

Focusing on his anxiety, he didn't notice the figure standing by the door until a quiet "Hello Nathan" caught him by surprise. The familiar voice made him turn, startled; his eyes widening as they darted over the slender figure of the ghost from his past. Gone was the mousy, self-effacing student he knew. The man before him now, although just as quiet, radiated a confidence and subtle power that his roommate never possessed.

"Shit! _Harold?!_ My God, it's really you!" Nathan closed the distance between them, arms out to embrace Finch. He stopped in confusion when the other man stepped to one side, his expression neutral. The total lack of reaction in his former lover’s face was disquieting. Ingram stared at him for a moment, then took an exploratory sniff. Nathan's own features went slack in disbelief.

"What happened to your scent? It's gone!" Ingram leaned forward, inhaling deeply at the base of Finch's neck. Harold pushed him away.

"Stop it!"

Nathan's eyes grew stormy. "Harold.....what the hell did you do?" 

"I took my future into my own hands....I looked out for my best interests because there was no-one else I could trust to do so."

"So you what, _neutered_ yourself?! Jesus Harold, how the fuck does that help you?"

"It allows me to live, rather than be a slave to my physiology."

"Being an omega doesn't make you a slave, it just means-"

"How the hell would _you_ know what being omega means, Nathan?" 

The alpha rocked back on his heels, stunned by the venom in his friend's words.

"Harold,"

"No! All your life you've reaped the rewards of being an alpha. Of wielding your power over betas and omegas alike." Finch inhaled, his brows knitting in anger, "You're doing it now....pouring on the pheromones to prove how wrong I must be, simply because _you_ think I am."

"All this time, without sharing heats? Without a bond?" Nathan's voice broke, sorrow at what he'd tossed aside all those years ago piercing his heart.

"And I've lived just fine without them. Without having an alpha in control over me. No-one to tell me what a good boy I am as he shoves his knot into me just so he can prove his dominance."

"For twenty years I've taken care of myself, on my own terms. And I must say, I've done pretty well." Finch's lips twisted mockingly. "Speaking of which, how is Olivia?"

Nathan clenched his fists, refusing to rise to the omega's bait.

“I was willing to adopt...would even have accepted Olivia as a surrogate if your family insisted on a child with Ingram DNA.” Finch’s face was stone. “But you didn’t think to ask, not me...not them. You didn’t even _try_ to fight for our chance to bond.”

The accumulated misery of fifteen years weighed heavily on Nathan’s soul and he knew Harold was right. He hadn’t fought for the omega, not in the slightest.

"I've done more than well, by anyone's standards; built this company from the ground up with my own capital." Harold's tone hardened. "This omega, this _neuter_ hired you after all; kept you from starving." His nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Your current pay grade won't allow you to sustain your 'habit', however."

Nathan's cheeks burned, his expression reflecting shame as he met Finch's eyes. There was no point in denying anything....he knew Harold could detect the escort's scent on him. 

“It was you I really wanted...who I always wanted and always will. I was a fool to walk away from what we had.” Ingram inhaled, his heart contracting with pain. "Harold, if there‘s any way-"

Finch shook his head. "That time is long over Nathan. I don't want you as an alpha anymore....I don't _need_ you as one."

Ingram swallowed around the lump that had risen in his throat at these words. He nodded, then turned to leave the office. He halted, hand reaching for the doorknob before Harold's words penetrated his haze of despair.

"What I do need is a partner; one who is discreet and will be loyal to me alone." Finch moved up to Ingram's side as he continued to speak. 

"Can you do that Nathan? Would you even want to?"

Ingram turned, his eyes clear and his voice exuding confidence. "If I can help, you know I will."

Finch studied him, searching for any sign of the friend he'd been so close to. Nathan had surely changed. The man before him now was a far cry from the brash, carefree hockey star he'd known back at MIT to be sure. The warm sincerity that was Nathan's trademark still shone through his myriad of battle scars and Harold couldn't help but feel his heart thaw a fraction. Making up his mind, Finch explained his idea.

"I have a project in the works, one I've been coding for a couple of years. It has to do with....." Harold broke off, his memories of that terrible day threatening to overwhelm him.

"With what happened? Here in New York, you mean?"

Finch nodded. "What I’m building will insure than something that horrific never occurs again. I need someone Nathan, someone I can trust to approach the government and explain my intent. Someone skillful in handling people; who can field questions and make the necessary appearances, meetings and social engagements that this process will require. All of which will enable me to work in peace."

Nathan's lips twisted into a wry grimace. "You always said I was the best snake-oil peddler you'd ever met. You need a front man, Harold? I can do that. I _want_ to." He held his hand out to his former lover and best friend.

Finch nodded, clasping hands with the alpha. Both men realized, even as they shook on it, that this was an important first step towards mending the shared sorrows of their past.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: Ah the agonies and joys of narrative! Thanks for taking a little stroll down memory lane with Harold & Nathan. I felt a bit of background was needed to set up this AU version of events and explain why Finch felt the need to hide his omega nature in the first place (those of you who've read my stories know that I love my plausible rationales, lol!). 

The next chapter will return us to the present and to Harold's current, dire situation. Thanks again for reading/kudoing/commenting!


	3. Shattered Images

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter III: Shattered Images  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold Finch/Logan Pierce  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, knotting, angst, first time, hurt/comfort, Reese is a major BAMF, Logan Pierce is a douche....as always, no m-preg in this fic

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_parking structure, Gramercy_

John Reese sat silent and unmoving, head bowed as he waited with infinite patience in the van's cargo space. The gift of being still was a rare trait among humans and yet Reese had possessed it almost from birth. Blessed with the ability to move quietly, the boy he had been spent hours losing himself in the forests around his home.

_As he grew older, he accompanied his father on hunting trips. It was not out of any desire to take a deer or turkey but to revel in the aloneness of it; embracing wild areas so devoid of his own kind yet teeming with life. In the military, the skill saved his life more than once and gave him one of the highest mission success rates in his platoon. As for the 'Company'...every advantage was a leg up for him when dealing with his assigned targets._

Now his patience would pay off, if not in Finch's current location, at least in where he was dropped and even perhaps, who had ordered the snatch.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_undisclosed location_

Harold's will was strong...he'd never have fought his way through the pain of his injuries and be able to walk again if it were otherwise. That tenacity stood him in good stead now as he balled his fists into the ragged blanket, refusing with every ounce of his being to touch himself. 

The itch between his thighs was intense; a constant, invasive reminder of his condition that was only exacerbated by the lubrication oozing from his opening. Finch's cock pressed stiffly into his stomach, the friction from each movement of his body on the cot sending a fresh pulse of need straight to his core. He'd stripped down to sleeveless undershirt and boxers in an attempt to keep his shirt and trousers from becoming soiled. Harold would not disrobe completely however. He would _never_ give Logan Pierce the satisfaction.

His glasses lay atop the neatly folded stack of garments at the cot's foot. Sight was superfluous to Finch now. His world for the foreseeable future was this twelve by twelve room. In any case if things ended the way Harold dreaded they would, the last thing the omega wanted was to clearly see Pierce's look of smug triumph as he took Finch.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_parking structure, Gramercy_

"You get what you wanted?" The detective cast a wary look at the tall, imposing figure at his side; hazel eyes taking in the bloody handkerchief the op was wiping his hands with.

"Enough to narrow down the search."

"Do I want to know how? Or should I just wait for the call to come in.... _'body found floating in the East River; multiple contusions and lacerations'_?"

"Lionel, you know I'd never be that amateurish."

Fusco scrubbed a hand over his face, part of him wishing for the millionth time that he'd never met the broody alpha. _Doesn't change things now though, does it?_ He chastised himself firmly. _Mr. Sunshine's your pack leader...time to find out what he wants._

"So what now?"

"Now, I locate Finch." John stared down at his lackey and sometimes friend. "You get the car and wait for my call, then meet me where I tell you to. I need you in place and ready to go before I get Harold out."

The beta nodded, settling a bit as Reese's decisiveness soothed his jittery nerves. “Alright.”, Lionel looked around as if expecting a precinct’s worth of uniforms to come screeching up at any moment. 

“We’d better get out of here sooner than later or-” he broke off as he turned back to find the op gone. Lionel cursed as he jogged back to his car. “God, I friggin’ hate it when he does that!”

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_undisclosed location_

_“Why?!”_ The recluse gasped, shivering on the bare concrete. “Any number of omegas would gladly bond with you...for any number of reasons. Why did you do this?”

“I told you before old man, surrounding yourself with multiples of _anything_ is just a useless waste of money.” Logan's tone oozed patronizing contempt. 

Finch writhed on the floor at Pierce’s feet, slick coating his thighs, plastering already soaked boxers to his hips.

“Same principle applies to omegas. You find one...the _right_ one. The omega that can be of most use to you.” Logan smirked as he regarded the panting figure before him. 

"I'm **not** the right one....not for you." Finch hissed through gritted teeth. "You've just as much money as I do; probably more. What could I possibly have that-"

“Power." The executive cut him off. "I covet the power I’ve seen you wield and by bonding with you, I’ll have unfettered access to it. Your intelligence is also more than a bit above average. You should be honored, _Harold_. You’re going to help me do great things...revolutionize the world’s technology." Logan's smile was cold. 

"You won’t get any credit of course. As your alpha, those accolades will by all rights belong to me. I’m not heartless though. You’ll be well taken care of; I might even allow you to wear normal clothing in public although I do have influential associates who are rather _traditional_ in their views of how omegas should be kept and that could put a different face on things. Believe me though,” Pierce knelt down to whisper confidentially to him.

“Knowing that I snatched you right out from under your watchdog alpha's nose; that you’ll be begging for my knot on a regular basis and that I’ll be the only one who can satisfy you is all the aphrodisiac I’ll need.”

“I think I’ll text him after we bond....send him a photo of his dapper, omega boss all sloppy and wet; my cum oozing out of his ass.” The entrepreneur mimed typing a message. “Dear.....Johnny...I...win!” He reached down and patted Harold’s cheek with condescending affection. 

The recluse flinched from Pierce's touch. Logan's scent was harsh and bitter to him, coating the roof of his mouth with acrid film that all but made him gag. Harold wished for the clean, good spoor of Reese. The op smelled of nutmeg, ginger and a hint of musk that reminded Finch of finely tanned leather...a combination that calmed Harold, reassured him; made him feel safe. 

All Pierce's stench did was cause his belly to tighten with fear. Finch didn't want to be claimed this way and curled in on himself, whimpering in denial. "Wrong," he whispered. "This is wrong... _a travesty!_ " 

Logan laughed outright at his prisoner before standing up and making his way to the door.

“Oh Harold, how often does the fact that something is wrong ever really stop it from happening? I’ll be back in a couple of hours, sweetheart. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be waiting for me, ass in the air.”

Finch heard the heavy metal barrier clang shut, mercifully leaving him to his miserable solitude. He tried to steady his breathing; taking deep, regular inhalations before pushing the air out through his nose. 

Harold was close to losing control, he could feel the press of his body's needs gnawing away at his logical brain. At this rate he'd give in long before his captor returned to claim him. He tucked his hands up under his chin, lacing his fingers to keep them from straying to his hips...from pushing beneath his sodden underwear to slip inside his opening.

The itching ache was almost unbearable now. _It was never like this before, not even when Nathan made me wait._ Harold's biology was making up for lost time with a vengeance and he knew that in the end, he would be unable to withstand it. His baser side wondered what sharing a heat with John Reese would be like. 

_To feel the op's strong hands stripping him with gentle competence; to have those clever fingers worm their way deep inside the omega and stroke his prostate with devastating accuracy. Finch rolled over on his back, spreading his legs for the phantasm his fevered imagination had conjured._

It was too much for Harold and before he realized he'd done it, his right hand seized his cock, squeezing it hard. Finch whimpered as he pictured Reese fondling him. The recluse bit his lip, bucking his hips into his fingers as he teased his slit with his thumb.

"Nngh.....John, _please!_ " Semen pulsed over his fingers, staining his undershirt and Finch sobbed as lubrication flooded from him. His fight was over. With this first orgasm the final barriers fell and his heat overwhelmed him. He would bring himself to completion many more times before Pierce came back....each climax becoming less and less satisfying until at last, only penetration by an alpha would be able to bring him relief.

His mind turned a last time to his partner, sorrow welling within him and bringing with it a longing he never thought he'd feel again after Nathan. _John would be nothing like Logan Pierce. John cares for me...would never bond without my consent._

_John loves me...._ he realized, just before rational thought deserted him. 

Harold Finch's life as he had known it, was over now.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**


	4. Scattered Shards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is dark and contains seriously strong dub-con/non-con content. If this offends you or is otherwise not to your liking then do not read it.

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter IV: Scattered Shards  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese, Harold Finch/Logan Pierce  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, knotting, angst, first time, hurt/comfort, Reese is a major BAMF, Logan Pierce is a douche....as always.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_John eased his ‘borrowed’ boat into Newtown Creek, pulling up beneath the shelter of Pulaski Bridge. Jumping to the rock-strewn shore, he turned to watch the current slowly carry the high-end motor launch downstream to the East River. Reese had no further use for it and if the owner did notice its absence, well that's what insurance payouts were for._

_John crept up the incline to the verge and headed south along McGuinness Boulevard. His conversation with the owner of the cargo van, although not resulting in an actual address, yielded a detailed description of the warehouse. Fusco was in position and awaiting his call. All Reese had to do was-ah!_

Half-way along Eagle Street, he found it. The unobtrusive looking building was almost indistinguishable from its derelict neighbors. Surrounded by abandoned cars, rusted air-conditioning units and the accumulated effluvia of nearly a hundred years of industrial activity; the crumbling brick facade was surmounted by a two-storey high bank of windows that ran the full width of the building. An oversized loading bay dominated the ground floor, with a matching pedestrian access to one side.

Both entry doors were of heavy duty, reinforced steel and looked to have been installed recently. John’s grin was feral. Whoever had snatched his partner was taking no chances it seemed but.... _they didn’t plan on me_. The day the op couldn’t break into a cracker-box structure such as this would be the day he ceased to draw breath. Slipping on a pair of leather gloves, Reese made his way to the back of the property and easily picked a window lock. 

_Amateurs_ , he shook his head in disgust as he stood in what must have been the garage’s office, _always figure if the front looks impenetrable it’ll intimidate burglars. Good thing **I** don’t give up that easily._ Reese pulled his SIG and moved silently into the main bay.

A pall of burned motor oil and garbage permeated the place; playing havoc with the op’s sense of smell. John inhaled through his mouth to filter out the worst of the stench. He concentrated on listening as he picked his way through mounds of debris and deeper into the building. 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

"Look at you Harry...."

Finch turned his face away, Pierce's voice grating along his nerves in spite of his compromised state. He trembled; his body held in place by the need to be mounted, even as his brain was desperate to escape. 

That Harold still wore his undershirt and boxers, filthy as they now were, amused the alpha. To Pierce, it made the act of claiming Finch all the sweeter. Knowing without a doubt the older man truly did not want him only reinforced Logan's decision to take him. 

_Harold is right. I could have a hundred omegas with one snap of my fingers, if I wanted. All of them well-bred, well-heeled; perfect trophy mates. Some of them even capable of using 'big words'....but those **aren't** what I‘m looking for._

Logan Pierce had spent the last five years navigating the shark tank of internet commerce. Every day he was surrounded by sycophants and fawning yes men of all stripes....lackeys ready to gratify his any wish in a bid to curry favor.

_That’s why Harold is perfect. He'll have to obey me because I'm his alpha but he has no desire to please me. He'll hate every moment of it._ Pierce chuckled at these thoughts. 

The omega would challenge him at every turn and because of that Harold would never be ordinary or boring. The entrepreneur’s dominance over him would be a constant irritant to the omega and Pierce _relished_ the thought.

“Time to get this show started." Pierce bent down and seized Finch’s hair, yanking his head up. He pressed a handkerchief to the omega’s face, forcing him to inhale its contents.

Harold spluttered, fighting against the wet warmth being smeared over his nose and lips. _Pre-ejaculate...._ He tried to hold his breath but the need for oxygen won out and he choked down a lungful of Pierce’s alpha scent. Noxious as Finch found it, he was too far along in his cycle to resist its lure. Warmth flooded his body; bringing with it a tide of desire so strong Harold thought he might drown in it.

Logan laughed as Finch presented, lowering his head until it lay against the concrete; his backside high in the air and knees splayed wide before the alpha. With his body’s betrayal of him, Harold felt his mind begin to drift and welcomed the oblivion as one small mercy in the soon to be hellhole of his new existence.

"Good boy," Pierce ruffled Finch's hair as if he were an obedient pet. "Not so cold are you now, Harry? Ready to have my big alpha cock stuffed up that hole of yours?" 

Harold recoiled within his mind. The verbal humiliation of omegas in heat that was part and parcel of an alpha's posturing, disgusted him. Pierce's condescending tone and cutting words took Finch straight back to his college days.....and Nathan’s enjoyment of the custom.

 

_"My, my, my Harold. Look at that soppy, dripping little hole of yours. Even a mega-brain like you turns into the most knot hungry slut out there when the heat's on." Ingram pulled out his cock, already showing signs of swelling at its base. He grinned down at the panting, writhing figure at his feet._

His roommate never hurt him, but Nathan came from a conservative family with very traditional alpha attitudes. Finch 'endured without complaint' because he loved the alpha. Outside of his heat, Nathan was always respectful; deferring to Harold's greater skills and knowledge but during them, Ingram missed no opportunity to indulge his alpha nature. 

_"Maybe I should take you out to the quad....make you strip down in front of everyone and let them watch as MIT's 'Ice King' melts into a hot omega whore. Whatcha' think about that?"_

_"Nathan...please..."_

_"C'mere champ, let's see if you're ready."_

 

"Let's just see how close you are....."

Harold whimpered as the boxers were jerked down his hips, the slick-soaked garment sagging around his thighs. Rough fingers pressed between Finch's buttocks, stroking his opening just long enough to gather a modicum of the omega's secretions before two of them were thrust perfunctorily inside.

Pierce's touch was coldly clinical, probing deeper until at last he found what he was searching for. Harold moaned, muscles clenching around the alpha's fingers as Logan pressed against his prostate. Pierce laughed again as he pulled out, watching a fresh gout of lubricant gush from the omega, oozing down Finch's legs.

" _Perfect_....say goodbye to your independence Harry."

Subsumed by aching need, Finch was oblivious to the quiet rattle of a zipper being opened; barely felt Pierce's hands gripping his hips as the alpha positioned himself.

"You're mine now." 

Finch felt a thick hardness insinuate itself against his core and the inevitability of what was about to happen triggered a final attempt at self-preservation within him. "S-stop....don't...." 

Then his knees locked, preparing for the push of the alpha entering him.

_Three shots, fired in quick succession....a crash...roar of unbridled rage...muffled thuds...._ Harold was knocked to the floor when two bodies slammed into him during their struggle. He curled up, wrapping his arms around his stomach in a feeble attempt to protect himself; the backwash of angry alpha pheromones kicking his submissive instincts into high gear.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Reese stealthily climbed to the second floor, easing down a darkened corridor to the only closed door along its length. He could see shadows moving beneath the crack. John took a deep breath, exhaling half of it before stopping his respirations. Muted conversation penetrated the doorframe, followed by a choking moan. The op sucked in air as he heard the sound of laughter.

John's lips curled back into a snarl as the stench of rutting alpha hit his nostrils; overlaying the soured tang of a distressed omega..... _in heat!_ Harold's voice carried feebly to him. 

_"S-stop....don't...."_

Hesitating no longer, the op fired three rounds into the lock and kicked the door hard enough that it slammed into the wall. His eyes were filled by the sight of Logan Pierce buried halfway to his balls inside Finch. John's rational side was immediately overtaken by the rage of finding another alpha attempting to claim a member of _his_ pack. 

Throwing his gun aside John launched himself at Pierce, bellowing in anger as he tackled the other man. The op pinned him easily beneath his larger frame; Logan snarling and growling as he attempted to fight off the invading alpha. 

Two precise blows to Pierce's temple and the entrepreneur went limp. John rolled the unconscious alpha over, quickly securing his wrists and ankles with zip ties. He got to his feet, pushing a toe beneath Pierce’s elbow to flip him onto his back again. Logan’s cock, still protruding through his open fly, had softened and John clenched his fist to keep from giving in to the temptation to cut off the offending organ and its auxiliaries.

_Logan Pierce...._ This conniving, shallow excuse for an alpha was the one who’d taken Finch?! _Finch!_ John turned back to where Harold had fallen and the full impact of the omega’s scent hit him like a ton of bricks.

_Lavender, vanilla...spicy overtones of chai....._ and all achingly, gloriously enticing to the alpha. Even as John’s instincts pulled him closer to Finch’s side, his mind tried to wrap itself around the knowledge that Harold Finch was an omega. 

The op began to detect a subtle change in his employer’s scent months ago but had been too focused on the numbers and more recently, his incarceration and the reappearance of his old CIA partner. Now as he stood looking down at the shivering, miserable omega, John felt out of his depth. The primordial side of him that Reese kept at bay was in danger of taking over. 

His mind was screaming at him to take Harold, mark him so that all the world would know that John had claimed Finch as his. Muffled sobs penetrated his internal battle and he realized that Harold was crying, head buried his arms as Finch tried to make himself as non-threatening as possible.

John fell to his knees, the need to protect and comfort an omega in distress for the moment overriding the alpha’s desire to breed. He reached out, fingers brushing the older man’s arm. 

Harold flinched when a hand touched his shoulder. "No, don‘t hurt....no more."

"Finch, it's me, it's John."

Still crying, the recluse shivered, unable to process that the voice speaking to him was not his captor‘s. Finch caught a whiff of scent that cut through the miasma surrounding him like a fresh breeze. Sucking in deep breaths, mouth open to better catch the familiar, welcome aroma Harold raised his head. With an inarticulate cry of relief he scrambled to his knees, lunging at the op and flinging his arms around Reese's legs. 

"John..... _John!_ ” Finch buried his nose in his partner's groin, his broken words muffled by the fine wool. "Good alpha... _my_ alpha...not Pierce!"

It tore John's heart to see his always so in control friend reduced to such a pitiful shadow of his normal self. His CIA training kicked in and protocol dictated that removing the hostage from a hostile environment was first priority. John locked down his desire and focused on extracting his friend from the garage.

"Jesus, Finch. You have to get up now." John bent over to grasp the recluse's shoulders only to have Harold seize his wrist in both hands, mouthing the bare flesh in order to capture more of the alpha's scent.

“Can’t....need you, _please!_ ”

“Harold....” Reese paused long enough to contact Lionel, giving the detective the garage’s address and telling him to meet them out front. He disconnected the call just as Finch reached up to cup the alpha’s groin. Insistent fingers pressed against John’s cock and Harold moaned as he felt the state of the op‘s arousal.

“Need you, in me.... _please John!_ ”

Steeling himself, Reese captured the recluse’s wrists in his hands and squeezed just enough to focus the omega’s attention.

“Finch, we have to get out of here. You have to come with me.”

“Yes, with you...always, anywhere.”

_“Get up Harold.”_ John hated himself for resorting to compulsion but it was the only thing that had a hope of getting Finch’s heat-soaked brain to respond.

Thankfully it worked and the op helped Harold stand, the man’s foul undergarment slipping over his feet as he followed John to the door. Reese stopped, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over Finch’s body.

Harold wrapped it around himself, burying his nose in the lapel and rumbling happily as he drank in John’s smell.

Reese scooped the omega up in his arms and carried the now limp and for the moment content body downstairs. He settled Finch on the backseat of Lionel’s car, buckling him in securely. Fusco stared in open-mouthed disbelief at the recluse.

“Holy shit, Finch is _omega?!_ When the hell did that happen?”

The detective cut himself off as he registered the look of murderous anger in Reese’s eyes. He held up his hand in placation, dropping his eyes to show his acceptance of the alpha’s dominance. 

“Okay, okay what now?”

“Get him to the safe house. In your ‘contacts’ list you’ll find the number for a Dr. Tillman. Call her, tell her John needs her help and give her the address. She’s a friend, Lionel.” Reese added, forestalling the detective’s protestations of the location being compromised. 

“What about you?”

“I have some loose ends to tie up here.” John nodded to Harold. “Get him out of here, Lionel....keep him safe.”

The beta inclined his head and roared off down the street as soon as John closed the car door. The op re-entered the building, his face set in hard lines as he made his way back upstairs to where he’d left Pierce. He had many questions and before the night was over, by God he was going to get answers.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: So...well...what can I say? I hope to have another chapter up soon, I just have to figure out what John's going to do with Pierce.


	5. Casting Glass

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter V: Casting Glass  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, knotting, angst, first time, hurt/comfort, Reese is a major BAMF, Logan Pierce is a douche....as always, no m-preg in this fic 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

It took less time than he anticipated. 

Logan Pierce was a bully, with an incredibly inflated sense of self-importance. To find out he was also a coward came as no surprise. A few veiled threats coupled with tying him to a chair, loosened the man's tongue so much that John had the entrepreneur's entire plan laid before him almost at once. Pierce grew boastful in fact; pride lacing his voice as he spoke about his custom drug.

"How long will it affect him?" The op broke in.

"Don't know. He was the first omega I ever used it on."

Anger coiled within Reese's belly as he stared at the self-absorbed idiot before him. "You made Finch your _guinea pig_...tested your poison on him?" He growled.

"It could have killed him."

Logan snorted in contempt as he shook his head. "Johnny-Johnny-Johnny, give me a little credit please. I hired the best omega reproductive specialist out there to make sure it wasn't lethal." He shrugged, as best as he was able within his bonds.

"What I _wasn't_ sure of was the lag time before the serum took effect." Pierce looked annoyed. "Had to have a snatch team on standby for nearly eight months...and let me tell you keeping them happy and out of trouble with so much 'down time' was expensive!"

The op balled his fists in Pierce's shirt, jerking both chair and man into the air before slamming them into the wall. The decrepit wood shattered, driving splinters into the captive's back.

Logan screamed in agony. "What the hell?!"

Reese pulled him forward only to thump Pierce against the cinderblocks again. "You son of a bitch...I should put a bullet in your head for what you've done."

Pierce gasped, struggling in the op's clutches as he tried to regain some measure of control. _God-damn my back is killing me!_

"Hey, he's gonna be fine, okay?!" The entrepreneur flashed a conspiratorial grin at his captor. 

"A little gratitude would be nice too. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in a position to claim Harry now would-" he broke off, yelping as Reese threw him to the floor.

"All your money, your resources...." Reese rolled the younger man over and re-secured his bonds; tying his ankles together as well this time. "you could help so many people but you don't give a damn about anything except yourself."

He pulled Pierce to his feet. "No more."

Logan's bravado slipped away as he studied the older man. Reese had gone quiet; the inferno of his anger banked into an unnatural calmness as he all but dragged Pierce down to the garage's main floor.

"Wait....what are you going to do? John?"

"Not much...." Reese didn't bother looking at him as he answered, his eyes intent on his phone as he sent a text. "Just make sure you don't ruin any more lives."

"No....hold on. I can give you anything man! You want money? To get out of town? Hell John, _I can buy you an island!_ Just let me go and we'll forget everything that's happened, alright?"

When Reese at last met Pierce's gaze, the op's eyes were cold, emotionless. "Like your plan to force-bond Harold into being your slave, you mean?" He shook his head. "If you hadn't taken him, I would have let you go eventually...but now, it's time for you to pay your debts, Logan."

Pierce's screams for help were cut off abruptly as the butt of the 9mm made contact with his temple. John threw the limp body over his shoulder, moving out the back door and into to the alley.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_two hours later_

It hit him as he walked into the safe house. The sweet, sensual trail of omega pheromones curled around Reese; beckoning to him. He stood on the entry landing, fingers all but crushing the metal handrail as he brought the full power of his will into play.

The op made no sound and yet Finch became aware of his presence almost at once. The broken whimpers emerging from the back bedroom resolved themselves into desperate repetitions of his name. He closed his eyes, fighting down the instincts that were pushing him to go to Harold's side....to soothe the agitated omega before claiming him as mate.

Dr. Tillman emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a wet towel and stopped at the foot of the stairs. Her expression was somber.

"What happened?"

The op shook his head. "Someone abducted him, after dosing him with a suppressant blocker for months. Want you to take a blood sample, see if we can figure out what exactly Finch was given and if it can be reversed."

She nodded. "I already did. I needed to get a baseline reading on his hormone levels. I'll have my lab do additional tests.” She looked back over her shoulder as the omega’s cries grew louder. “I take it this is your friend’s first heat in a very long time?”

Reese nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Placing his pistol and extra clips on the table by the door, John joined Tillman in the living room.

“Mr. Fusco left an hour ago, said he had some errands to run.” The beta chewed her lip as she looked at Reese. She owed the man so much but she was a doctor. The welfare of her patient came first, even if that meant offending someone who could easily kill her. 

"John, he's been asking for you....begging really." Meg's sympathy for her patient's suffering was clearly written in her face. “I’ve tried to make him as comfortable as possible but there’s only one thing that will help him now.”

The op exhaled, wishing he could rid himself of his inner conflict as easily. "I _know_ Doc. I can taste it in the air and it kills me not to go to him....but I can't."

Meg stared at him, shocked at his apparent callousness.

"He wants you, alpha and it's obvious you care for him. How can you possibly stand there and tell me you won't do anything? He _belongs_ to you! Even the most scent-blind beta can smell it!"

John wheeled round to face her, fists at his sides as he struggled to stay calm. "He doesn’t belong to anyone!” The op took a deep breath and tried to make her understand. 

“He needs an alpha now because he’s in heat but he doesn't want to bond Doc; trust me _I_ know. Finch would have come to me; told me he was omega if he wanted that...wanted me." 

The knowledge that Finch had hidden his gender at their first meeting wasn’t what bothered John. Reese was an unknown alpha; a very dangerous one to boot. Finch would have been insane to openly admit to being omega in such a situation. 

In the past two years however, he and Harold had become so close. The op trusted Finch with his very life; would have walked into hell if Harold said to, without hesitation.

He thought Finch had begun to trust him. _He does, for most things....just not the part of him that was most vulnerable._

Harold had to know by now that the op would never harm him.. _.Why wouldn't Finch tell me and-_ The op sighed. _Admit it to yourself at least. If you'd known all along he was an omega, you'd have given anything for him to bond with you._

The op’s cheeks flushed at the turn his thoughts were taking. 

Reese forced his lips into a wry smile. “It doesn’t matter how I may or may not feel. In the end, it’s not up to me."

"Bullshit!"

John's eyebrows shot up at the doctor's expletive. "What?"

"That's the most cowardly, lame-ass excuse I have ever heard." She marched right up to the taller man and punched him in the chest.

"You say he doesn't want to bond with you, then _don't_....I know you have more control than that. But if you're even half the alpha I took you for when we met, then for God‘s sake _show_ it! Get in there and take care of your packmate." 

Reese rubbed his torso, scowling down at the feisty beta. This was the Meg Tillman he remembered; gutsy, determined and hell-bent on avenging her sister. 

"John," the doctor's eyes were pleading now. "If you really are his friend, don't let him suffer." 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

His hair still damp from the shower and now wearing clean clothes, John stood in the doorway, his eyes on the carpet as he listened to Finch’s crying.

“Alpha? Need you, want you....John....”

“I can’t Finch. You don’t really want this...” Reese’s voice was quiet but Harold still turned towards it like a flower seeking the sun’s rays.

_“Yes, want it, want you.....please!”_

“No. Your instincts are calling the shots right now. When this is over, you’ll understand. I won’t leave the apartment, I’ll make sure you’re safe but I can’t be with you. I’m sorry.”

As he turned to leave, a moan full of wretchedness halted him in his tracks.

"So alone..." Harold's voice was bleak, devoid of all hope. _"I don't want to be alone anymore."_

Those words pierced Reese's heart, shattering the op's resolve. He turned to see Finch on his side, blanket bunched around his hips and tears leaking from beneath his eyelids. Dr. Tillman had removed his undershirt and cleaned the omega up as best she could. Still, Harold looked so bedraggled that Reese was helpless to resist his inner urgings any longer.

John stripped down to his briefs then sat on the bed at Finch's side.

"Shhhh....." John cupped the older man's face in gentle hands. He waited until Finch looked at him; wanting to make sure he had as much of the omega's attention as he was capable of giving at the moment.

"I won't take you Harold. _No_ ," he interrupted Finch's stuttered protests. "I need you to listen to me!" The omega fell silent, his breathing harsh as he struggled to hold still in obedience to the alpha's wishes.

"I know you need help right now and that's what I'm offering. Will you let me help you?"

"Yes..... _please..._ "

Reese looked the recluse right in the eye and saw at last a tiny spark of the logical man he knew. Finch gave a slight nod, understanding. Harold started to say something else only to have that flash of intelligence slip away, buried beneath an avalanche of omega instinct. Finch writhed, hips grinding into John's side even as he coughed at the resulting pain in his injured leg.

John eased his long frame over Finch’s, the op’s tanned skin sliding against the paler form. Harold’s arms wrapped around Reese, pulling him closer as the omega uttered quiet sounds of pleasure. 

John stroked Harold’s shoulders and back, murmuring reassurances in his ear as he allowed Finch to scent him. All omegas needed skin to skin contact during heat, even without a bond. It grounded them; reassured them that they were acceptable to their chosen alpha. He nuzzled along Finch’s hairline; pressing kisses against his scalp and indulging in his own scenting behavior. He’d not held an omega in his arms since Jessica. 

_Jess- warm, beautiful, strong. It had broken his heart to leave her but his country needed him. Jess had understood, would have waited if he’d asked her to....would have pledged her bond to him._

_John refused to keep her hanging. He had every intention of coming home but he was a soldier and knew realistically that he couldn't promise he would. He let her go, never dreaming that everything he believed in fighting for would be warped by deception....nor that Jessica would end up dead._

So John had dropped out of sight, mourning his lost omega and closing his heart to the world, vowing to never care about anyone again. 

_Until a pushy, paranoid stranger literally snatched me off the streets and back into life._ The op sighed. As much as he wanted to be with Finch, even when Reese had thought him beta, the forced revelation of Harold’s true gender tainted things in the op’s eyes. He had no confirmation that Harold truly wanted him; no opportunity now for Finch to approach him of his own will...tell John what he was.

He’d sworn he wouldn’t knot Finch and John would keep his word. The op went deep inside himself, drawing on all the training the CIA had drilled into him about handling omegas. In the face of Harold's awakened desire, John found himself hard-pressed to retain his composure.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Finch rubbed his face on the op's chest, licking over Reese's pectorals to bury his nose in the man's armpit. _"Good, good, wonderful....John."_

Strong arms holding him; safe, secure...warm skin, the scent of the alpha he knew and trusted.... _his alpha_. The tiny sliver of Harold Finch that remained analyzed his current situation. John's words came back to him 

_"I won't take you Harold...I know you need help right now and that's what I'm offering."_

That fleck of rationality believed his partner. Time and again, Reese had proved himself to Finch, his only reward continued evasions and misdirections on the recluse’s part. 

It galled him to be in such circumstances but regardless of how this had happened, Harold needed John now. Every instinct Finch possessed told him that Reese was the only person he _could_ trust.

Another wave of desire crashed over him and Harold clutched at the younger man. Slick poured out of him, coating both of their lower bodies in warm wetness.

Finch held onto John for a heartbeat more before rolling onto his belly and canting his hips towards the op. His cock jutted out stiffly, smaller than an alpha’s but quite respectable for an omega. Pre-come oozed from his slit, mingling with the natural secretions from Finch’s opening.

_“Need you, John...alpha....yours, take me, knot me...PLEASE!”_

Harold’s scent was everywhere. John swallowed, pulling his senses inward to dampen his reactions to the omega displaying before him. As his hands stroked Finch's hips, memories of his academy days flitted through his mind.

 

_"At some point each of you will be faced with recovering omega personnel or targets." Their instructor glanced at each of the trainees in turn before continuing._

_"While we have access to suppressant technology, once heat has begun there's only one way to deal with it."_

_Several of his classmates chuckled knowingly, much to John's disgust._

_"Stop thinking with your knots, jackasses." The instructor barked at them. "Friend or foe, the last thing you want is to be overrun by the enemy while you're tied to your objective." The scorn in his tone cowed the young alphas._

_"That's why you're here, to learn to control your instincts so that you can defuse a volatile situation quickly and get back to safe ground ASAP.”_

 

"I'm here Harold." The quiet rumble of this voice that had come to signify comfort and security to Finch, now thrummed along his spinal column. Sparks of desire radiated down to his crotch, causing his back to shiver in reaction.

John rubbed soothing circles against the omega's injured hip as his other hand slipped between the eagerly spread thighs to collect a generous amount of Harold's secretions. The op only just managed to keep from smearing the pheromone laden slick over his mouth. 

Finch sobbed as the alpha stroked his opening. The ring of muscles relaxed, gaping in response to the other's touch and allowing Reese's entry. John slipped two fingers inside Harold at once, easing into the omega's hot channel.

Disregarding Finch's broken pleas to be knotted and his own growing arousal, the alpha concentrated on stimulating Harold. John massaged the tight, slick walls, pushing further in until he found the bump of Finch's prostate.

_"Jooooohhhhnnnn!"_ The alpha's name was pulled out of Harold in a needy whine as the omega pressed his hips back against Reese's hand. John eased his hand out only to replace it with three fingers; this time concentrating his touch just inside Finch's rim.

 

_"Immediately behind the omega anal sphincter is a line of glands about as long as your index finger." John studied the digital projection, noting the portion of the illustration his instructor was highlighting._

_"When the omega is in heat, these swell in preparation for stimulation by an alpha's knot. Repeated intercourse will release their enzymes into the omega's bloodstream and bring them relief."_

_"It's possible to manually trigger an orgasm that will bring an early end to the heat cycle. This is what you have to master." The instructor flicked on the lights and nodded towards the lab._

_"If you get the technique right, you'll be able to defuse a complicated situation within a matter of minutes....and I guarantee that any foreign diplomat you're protecting will prefer that to being knotted by their security detail. You're agents first, not alphas. You don't like that then leave now and go find a nice, submissive omega to bond with so you can play 'king of the world'."_

 

Recalling his lessons, John carefully worked his fingers around until.... _there!_ He could feel the line of nodules starting to swell. The alpha spaced his digits out so that each fingertip rested squarely on a bump and began to stroke in tight circles. 

"Oh.... _oh God!_ " Harold's body jerked, muscles clenching around John's hand as the instinct to knot kicked in. "More, harder, need it...need you!"

John pushed harder, applying and releasing pressure rhythmically against the glands to simulate an expanding knot. His other hand slid around Finch's waist, gripping the slender, omega cock and teasing its slick head.

_**"SHIT!"**_ Harold bucked like a wild thing, crying out John's name as he climaxed in the alpha's hand. John gritted his teeth against the cramping of his fingers, now trapped inside Finch's spasming hole. His own cock was hard, throbbing with suppressed need and the ex-op mentally pushed back his urges to get his friend through this.

All at once Harold collapsed, his limbs turning to jelly and lay quivering on the bed. John eased his hand out, wiping slick onto the coverlet before slipping out of bed. The omega made a noise of protest but Reese touched his shoulder in reassurance.

"S'alright....bathroom. Just stay here." 

Harold nodded, whimpering quietly as he struggled to slow his breathing. 

John closed the bathroom door behind him and taking himself in hand, smeared a trace of Harold's lubricant underneath his nose. The alpha hissed as desire slammed into his gut, engorging his cock and causing his knot to swell.

"Jesus, Finch...." He swore under his breath as he stripped his penis, pre-come slicking his fingers and creating a delicious friction. John licked his lips, tasting the omega for the first time and moaning in need as Harold's essence exploded on his tongue. 

In his mind, John pounded into the begging, wanton omega beneath him....felt his knot pop to its full size and snapping his hips furiously, came with a fierce growl. By the time he'd recovered enough to move, his briefs and a significant portion of the tile at his feet were coated with semen. He used his now soiled underwear to mop everything up and tossed them in the laundry bin.

Returning to the bedroom, he spooned up behind the shivering man. John was silent, his nose pressing into Harold's nape as he committed the omega's scent to memory. If nothing further developed between them, the alpha would always have this moment to recall. He wrapped his arms around Finch again and cuddled him close. Harold's fingers covered his own and they both settled into an exhausted sleep.

Neither of them were aware when Dr. Tillman left the apartment.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: There will be one more chapter to this fic, wherein certain situations will be discussed and dealt with.


	6. Careful Tempering

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter VI: Careful Tempering  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, knotting, angst, first time, hurt/comfort, Reese is a major BAMF, Logan Pierce is a douche....as always, no m-preg in this fic 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Finch came awake slowly, pushing up through layers of sleep until he at last reached consciousness. He blinked, rubbing his gritty eyes as he tried to remember where he was.

_Our current safehouse....how did I get here?_

Occupied by his introspection, it took a long moment for Harold to realize that the level of pain he should be experiencing upon waking was greatly reduced. The recluse was lying on his back, propped up by his typical arrangement of pillows. 

He became aware of the fact that he was also wearing a clean t-shirt and boxers. Screwing his eyes shut, Finch delved into his memories. Only a few broken images percolated to the surface. _A warm washcloth soothing his skin...soft fabric being drawn over his hips and chest....a low, comforting voice urging him to sleep._

And then it all came rushing back. His abduction by and attempted bonding to Logan Pierce. John finding him and...Harold flushed up to his hairline as he remembered kneeling on the floor in front of his employee, begging Reese to fuck him. Finch covered his face with his hands. How could he ever look at John again?

Finch pushed back the covers, struggling out of the shirt and examining his torso for any signs of injury. _No bites, just the bruises that Pierce's lackeys gifted me._

Not quite able to believe it, Harold rose and limped to the dressing mirror. Turning away, he looked best as he was able over his shoulder. Only the intersecting lines of his surgical scars were visible. Logan Pierce's plan had not succeeded.

Harold took stock of the faint aches and pains he was feeling. His lower back was tender and his abdomen ached from the man-handling he'd endured at the hands of the capture team. Significant in its absence was the tell-tale soreness that he should be feeling around his opening. No-one had knotted him.

Harold exhaled, relief flooding his body and bringing with it additional memories of his rescue. The alpha's presence had been incredibly comforting for Finch, more so even than Nathan's. John had stayed with him afterwards it seemed; seeing to the omega's care and safety. Standing in the middle of the master-suite Harold hugged himself, remembering the feeling of John's arms holding him close. 

_Wait...where is John?!_

Startled out of his reverie, Finch found his robe and slippers. The recluse emerged from the bedroom and listened for any sounds of movement. "Mr. Reese?"

A quiet _woof_ , coupled with the staccato tick of claws on hardwood flooring was heard as Bear bounded from the living room to greet him. Harold smiled, ruffling the Malinois' ears as he sat at his master's feet. 

_“Goede jongen. Gaan liggen.”_

Obediently the dog trotted back from where he came, settling in on his plush bed. Finch followed, limping into the kitchen to see the electric kettle full and hot. Harold’s preferred mug, a spoon and the tin of green tea were laid out along the counter.

As he brewed his cup, Finch was struck by the difference between his current circumstances and those he _could_ be enduring were it not for John Reese. Harold’s fingers crept up to touch his neck. _I might have woken in that godforsaken room....filthy, naked and suffering from the aftereffects of Pierce’s bond-bite._ It shook him to the core to realize how close he'd come to losing everything....losing his very self. 

Cradling his tea, Harold moved to the dining table and found a folded piece of paper. Picking it up, he scanned the familiar handwriting.

 

**Had to check on a few things and stop by the library. I walked  
** **Bear before leaving so he should be good until I get back. I'll  
** **bring food. Pierce is no longer a threat but please stay at the**  
 **safehouse until I return.**

**John**

 

The wording was so typical of Reese’s succinct style that Harold relaxed again. There was nothing of ‘I am alpha, do as I say.’ in it, nor did the note contain any flowery epithets of affection. _'Ball’s in your court Finch. We talk if you want to....'_ was the unspoken message.

Harold nodded to himself, understanding the need for both of them to have some space. He appreciated John’s tact in handling such an unorthodox situation. Things would have to be addressed soon though... _my heat isn't over, even though his unusual technique seems to have bought me an extended period of clarity._

Finch jumped at the buzz from his cell. Frowning he picked it up and was surprised to see Megan Tillman’s name on the caller ID. He answered at once.

“Good morning Dr. Tillman.”

_“Mr. Finch. I‘m sorry to contact you so early but I have the results of your bloodwork from yesterday. I thought you might wish to go over them as soon as possible.”_

Harold’s guts clenched. He remembered the doctor taking samples and although he needed to know what he’d been dosed with, Harold wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to.

“Thank you for your promptness, doctor. Please tell me your findings....”

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Reese returned to find the safehouse quiet. He glanced at the empty dogbed by the sofa and pulled his 9mm. Closing the door silently he eased down the staircase, steadying the SIG’s butt with his free hand as he worked his way through the apartment.

_Living room and kitchen clear...no signs of a struggle._ The tea things John had left out for Finch had been moved; all of them, obviously used, were in the sink. Leaving the takeout bags on the counter, he continued to search. He found the omega in the back study.

Still clad in his robe, Harold was ensconced in an overstuffed armchair. He stared out at the Brownstone lined street. His face was blank, only the occasional movement of his eyes indicating that he was even conscious. One hand rested on the crown of Bear's head where it lay in his lap. The malinois sat unmoving at the recluse's side.

John took in the tableau before him, noting the resigned slump of his partner's shoulders. 

"Finch?" he called out softly, relegating his pistol to its customary place at his lower back. "Everything alright?"

Harold sighed but made no move to greet the op. Reese watched for a moment, then pushed a patchwork ottoman to the open space by Finch's elbow. He settled upon it, his own eyes drawn to the window. He said nothing, knowing that when his friend was ready to talk, he would do so.

Although not acknowledging it, Harold was deeply grateful to John for being there and most importantly, for not pushing him. The ex-agent possessed the patience of the ages; showing not the slightest hint of ill temper. Finch knew John would wait as long as was needed; do whatever the recluse required of him....even leave if Harold ordered it.

He couldn't put off conversation indefinitely however and still watching the ebb and flow of humanity along the streets, Finch cleared his throat.

"Before all other considerations Mr. Reese, I must thank you...both for finding me and for being in time to prevent an occurrence that would have effectively ended my life. I want you to understand just how deeply I am in your debt for your intervention." 

"This isn't about payment or debts Finch. You're my packleader and my _friend_."

_Packleader_....the word filtered through Harold's thoughts. Frowning, he turned to look at John.

"I'm omega, Mr. Reese." he stated, his voice cold.

The op shrugged. "Doesn't change either fact."

Pale eyes studied John, surprise clearly written in them. Harold searched his partner's face for any sign of untruth. John returned Finch's gaze with frank openness. There was no trace of pity or disgust in his regard. _I trust you_ , the look said, _I have for a long time now._

Harold turned away, swallowing to clear the tightness in his throat. Bear whined, pressing up against his legs. He patted the malinois' head as he struggled to compose himself.

"In any case, I now find myself in a _compromised_ position. Dr. Tillman called earlier with unsettling news. The substance Pierce was dosing me with contained a high percentage of _pheroprovitol_."

"Christ, Finch." 

Reese knew the drug well. The military had experimented with it for decades. The CIA routinely used it in certain highly clandestine ops where a suspected omega target had to be confirmed or 'outed' to their subordinates. It was so powerful a heat inducer that most governments had banned its use (if for no other reason than to prevent its use on the officials themselves).

If Harold had relied on mainstream prescription suppressants, Pierce's cocktail would have taken no more than a week to affect him. John couldn't help the upwelling of pride within him at Finch's genius in developing one that had withstood _pheroprovitol_ for nearly a year. The downside to that however.....

“That means,”

“Yes.” Harold’s reply was barely audible. _Pheroprovitol_ built up in an omega’s system over time and after eight months of continued exposure it would take almost twice that time to be flushed fully from Finch’s body. Resuming his suppressant shots before that happened would be useless and only prolong the detox process. 

“For the foreseeable future, I have no choice but to live as an omega.”

The op’s lips pulled back in a silent snarl, his hatred for Pierce's machinations only increasing. John forced himself to calm down. Excessive anger was useless, especially since the cause of Finch's problems had been dealt with.

"I meant what I said. None of this changes how I see you Finch or your leadership of this pack."

"It will have consequences though, Mr. Reese. Even Dr. Tillman doesn't fully know how Pierce's drugs will affect me. Any future heats I experience may be erratic in their frequency and duration...even this one is-" Harold cut himself off, feeling his face flush. 

“I sensed something was going on, even if not what exactly.” The op smiled sadly at his boss. “Your scent began to shift enough for me to detect.”

Finch‘s head snapped around, his eyes wide. “Why didn’t you-”

Reese shrugged, ducking his head as he turned away. “Had a lot on my plate then, wasn’t really thinking about it.”

The recluse grunted in acknowledgement. _Of course...prison and Ms. Stanton's machinations._

“When that dust settled, I was too busy working the numbers to really pay attention." He looked down. “Should have though....should have said something. Maybe I could have prevented this.” 

“John...”

"I dropped the ball and you paid the price."

"Not the one that could have caused the most damage to me. I have you to thank for that. You didn't force me to buy those books, John and you certainly weren't the one who laced them with suppressant blockers!"

The op shrugged again. "For such a self-absorbed idiot, Pierce was clever about that."

Harold bit his lip. "They'll have to be destroyed, _all_ of them and the whole shelf above and below them at least." He barked out a rueful laugh. "Why am I worrying about books when I'm lucky to even be here?"

"Coping mechanism...s'happened to me before. Found myself obsessing over a missing shirt when I'd just escaped being blown to bits in a firefight."

"You said my gender won't affect how you see me but it _does_ change things between us." The recluse met his friend's eyes for a moment, then looked away in shame. "My heat hasn't ended...I am merely in the 'eye of the storm' so to speak."

"Tell me what you need...." came the quiet reply. "I'll keep surveillance on this place from nearby if you prefer to be alone. I won't take something I haven't been offered...I’m not that kind of alpha"

“I know you aren’t.” Harold replied. “If I thought you were, I never would have reached out to you in the first place. If you had been, you never would have agreed to help me with our work.” 

"I understand you don't want to bond, you wouldn't have gone to such lengths to pass as beta otherwise. I wouldn't....I'm not like _him_." The op's voice was tight.

"Of course not..." Finch hesitated, studying the man beside him with great intent as if making up his mind. "John, I-"

Finch broke off, hissing as he doubled over in his chair. 

"Harold?!" Reese was out of his seat and kneeling in front of the recluse in an instant. Bear backed away from them, whining louder.

_"Bear, stilte! Gaan liggen.”_ The malinois hesitated, torn between obeying Reese and his protective instincts at Finch's distress. The op repeated the command and Bear returned to his bed. John touched the recluse's knee. "Harold?"

"Next....next wave coming. That's all..." Finch gasped out the words even as he felt desire uncurling in his belly. _"oh...God."_

Harold could feel John's warmth; the alpha's rich and musky scent all but drowning his olfactory senses. On autopilot he leaned into the op's shoulder, rubbing against John and Finch realized his nose was buried in Reese's hair.

"What do you want?" An ocean of empathy and admiration colored John's voice. "You‘re in charge here."

Finch huffed, his breath riffling John's hair. “What about _your_ choice? What do you want, Mr. Reese?”

“You...if you find me worthy enough.” He sighed, closing his eyes and waited for the omega’s decision.

Finch raised his hands to cup the op’s face. His thoughts were pulled back to the warehouse and the aftermath of his first orgasm... _'John is nothing like Logan Pierce. John cares for me...loves me.'_

“John....I want you to share my heat.”

Reese lifted his eyes to see naked hunger in Finch’s face. “Even-”

“Yes...."

The op nodded, getting to his feet and carefully scooping his partner up to carry him down the hall. 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: I really am sorry to leave things here but I didn't want to hold the first half of this chapter back while I wrangled with the smex. My 'pron-muse' has deserted me again and I'm staring at a blank, white screen praying for the son ofa gun to come back from vacation.

In any case, bless you readers for your patience. I hope I'll have the rest of this posted in the next few days!

 **Pheroprovitol** is a figment of my imagination and any resemblance between it and any substance currently available on the pharmaceutical market is purely co-incidental.


	7. Polishing the Glass

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter VII: Polishing the Glass  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, graphic descriptions of medical procedures, kidnapping.

NOTE: The final part of this chapter is very dark, containing explicit descriptions of non-con medical procedures and/or torture. If these themes are offensive to you then read the rest of the chapter and skip the end. You have been warned. 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

**_present time_ **

_“John....I want you to share my heat.”_

_Reese lifted his eyes to see naked hunger in Finch’s face. “Even-”_

_“Yes...."_

_The op nodded, getting to his feet and carefully scooping his partner up to carry him down the hall._

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

John deposited Finch on the bed, then stepped away and began stripping off.

Harold watched, eagerly running his gaze over the other man. He'd seen John partially clothed before of course, even nude in the aftermath of dealing with a number. He’d tended the op's wounds countless times and therefore built up some measure of immunity against Reese's tendency to walk naked from the bathroom after a shower. 

Seeing his partner deliberately expose himself for the express intent of providing Finch pleasure however, was almost enough to make Harold orgasm right then. The op's veneer of civilization slipped away with his expensive suit, revealing the toned body of a primal alpha Reese’s fine clothes normally concealed. 

John was already half-hard and the sight caused Finch's own organ to twitch. Harold felt a slick wetness between his cheeks heralding his body's readiness once again to be taken. He inhaled, closing his eyes as he drank in the alpha’s scent.

Reese smiled at the omega’s reaction to him. Finch’s pheromones were beginning to affect John too…all his instincts to cherish and protect were coming to the fore and the alpha closed the distance between them, kneeling between Harold’s legs. He reached out, touching the recluse’s cheek as he leaned in to press a kiss to Finch’s jaw. Harold released a quiet sigh.

John’s hands slid down to the older man’s hips; fingers pushing beneath the elastic of his boxers. Harold gripped his partner’s shoulders to steady himself, rising from the bed just enough to allow John to pull his underwear off. The op tossed the silk shorts aside and rubbing his fingers along Harold’s thighs, bent his head to press his nose to Finch’s groin. 

The scent was intoxicating. John let out a low rumble of satisfaction as he licked and nuzzled the thatch of hair surrounding Harold’s penis. The alpha wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the omega’s heady taste. John heard Harold’s breath hitch as his cock was laved from root to crown. The alpha growled possessively as he took Finch in. 

_Oh….oh God…._ Harold’s thoughts ground to a halt as he lost himself in the wet warmth of John’s mouth. Although he’d performed fellatio many times, the omega had never been on the receiving end. 

He asked Nathan about it once while in the throes of his current cycle and the lanky Texan had guffawed at him outright. 

_"Alphas don't **go down** , Sugar...." Nathan replied, going so far as to pat the omega's head before pushing it back towards his waiting cock. Ingram later had a t-shirt made, insisting that Harold wear it (and nothing else) in their dorm room during his next heat. It had been sunshine yellow with the slogan **'Alphas FUCK, Omegas SUCK'** emblazoned on the front in big, black letters and sporting the familiar 'Have a Nice Day' smiley face, its mouth obligingly open._

The memory made Finch ashamed enough that he felt compelled to protest. 

“John!”

Reese pulled off at once, looking up anxiously into his partner’s flushed face. 

“What’s wrong, did I hurt you?”

Harold’s eyes were fever bright as he struggled to speak. “N-no…it’s just-you shouldn’t, alpha’s don’t…”

“Does it feel good?” the alpha asked before closing his lips over the tip of Finch’s penis.

“Ye-es….oh….”

John applied a slight amount of suction before letting it slip out. “If it makes you feel good and I want to, then yes this alpha does. And Finch, for the record…. _I very much want to._ ”

Harold watched in helpless abandon as the op’s tongue stretched out to tease his slit. His head fell back as much as it was capable and he gave himself up to the cascade of sensations washing over him.

The omega was rock hard, his hips quivering with the need to thrust into the wet heat. The alpha’s hands held him still as Reese worked Harold’s cock with enthusiasm. He could feel Finch’s skin twitching beneath his fingers and was ready when at last Harold cried out, filling John’s mouth with semen.

The omega huffed, his body prickling all over as he rode out his orgasm. Slick poured out of his opening and he leaned forward, touching his forehead to the alpha’s. An overwhelming longing coursed through Harold and he clutched again at Reese’s shoulders, fingers digging into the alpha’s taut muscles.

“Please John….. _need you!_ ”

Finch let go, moving to lay face down on the bed to as he instinctively presented for his alpha. He stopped as strong hands gripped his waist. 

“No….on your back.”

Harold swallowed in confusion, even as his body moved on auto-pilot. He eased down into the mattress, allowing John to arrange the pillows under his shoulders and hips. The omega was amazed at the other man’s care in making sure Harold’s weak points were stabilized and that he was comfortable.

It made sense that he would, however. John Reese had been his asset, partner and friend for three years. He'd seen how Finch's injuries affected him and anticipating his needs in regards to that fact had become second nature to him.

Once Harold had been positioned, John paused. Finch closed his eyes in bliss as warm hands stroked along his body; mapping out the plane his shoulders, chest and hips. John bowed his body over Harold's, pressing kisses to his neck and Finch felt the alpha's nose pressing into the junction of his neck and shoulder; the puff of John's breath causing his skin to tingle. Finch squirmed, his cock brushing against the alpha’s stomach. Harold whimpered, desperate to have John inside him. 

Reese made a quiet sound of satisfaction before rearing back to sit on his heels. He placed his hands on the omega’s belly, fingers burying themselves in the graying hair that covered the soft mound of skin. Harold lay still...silently waiting for the casual, coarse remarks he knew were now to come. He would accept it without protest; it was just the way things were after all. A hormonal-induced alpha instinct, nothing more. Still the recluse could not help a twinge of sadness. His partner’s treatment of him up to now had been gratifyingly tender.

"You are so perfect Finch." the smoky, sultry voice was filled with reverence.

Harold’s eyes flew open in amazement. “W-what?”

“Look at you….” The keen blue eyes echoed Reese’s words as the alpha looked into Finch’s own. “Your mind, your heart…God Harold, your will alone is stronger than most alphas!”

The recluse felt his face heat up and turned his head to one side. “I’m not strong.” he whispered. “I-…..I’m _broken_.”

“Because of your injuries? Your scars?” Warm fingers gripped Finch’s chin, gently compelling movement until Harold once again looked him in the face. 

“They’re proof of your strength, Harold. That you’re a survivor.” Reese’s free hand slipped between the omega’s legs to stroke his slick-coated opening.

_“Oh….John….”_

“You’re not broken…you’re beautiful. How could I not want to be with you?” John bent down to capture Finch’s lips in his, swallowing the omega’s needy moans as his fingers pressed inside Harold’s loosening ring.

Finch rocked his hips, greedily pushing against the alpha’s hand in a bid for deeper contact. John deliberately avoided the glands he’d stimulated before. Finch had given Reese permission to knot him and the alpha intended to satisfy his partner’s desires the best way he could.

_All those years posing as a beta….why? He’s been with an alpha before, a very ‘traditional’ one I’d wager, based on his preconceptions._ John couldn’t help the sliver of anger that crossed his thoughts. Finch had been hurt, that much was clear. How and why Reese didn’t know but he was determined to prove to Harold that there were alphas who were different….that he himself was different.

John mouth roved from Harold’s to his neck, licking the older man’s earlobe and inhaling the mix of pheromones rising from the omega’s scent gland.

He would have to be careful. When he knotted Finch, his instincts would urge him to latch onto the organ and bite hard. Reese wanted more than anything to bond with the recluse…his desire for Jessica seemed so pale in comparison. 

_But Harold made it clear that he doesn’t want that._

John knew in the throes of his first heat in so long, Finch would bare his throat to the alpha without realizing it, his submission an automatic response to the hormones flooding the omega’s system. It would be up to Reese to show restraint, difficult though it was going to be.

John teased the now swollen gland with slow swipes of his tongue. Harold began to pant, literally writhing on the alpha’s fingers in desperation. 

“Need you alpha…..please…. _fuck me John!!!_ ”

Reese removed his hand, the omega all but crying at the loss of contact. John spread Harold’s legs and slipped into position. Finch’s hole was gaping, loose and ready, slick pooling onto the sheets around it. 

The alpha pressed his erection against the omega, easily able to feel the quivering in the ring of muscles as he pushed into Harold.

Harold arched his hips, faintly registering the alpha’s grunt of surprise as the older man locked his ankles around Reese’s waist. John was buried up to his balls in the omega and Finch moaned at the delicious pressure filling him. The glands around his sphincter were pulsing; the hot, itching need finally being satisfied as Reese pulled out only to slam into him again and again. 

_“Yes! Damn-it, FUCK ME!”_

Harold opened his eyes to see John staring down at him, genuine pleasure and lust evident in his expression.

“So good Harold….so fucking perfect!”

For a split second it clicked in Finch’s mind that he could clearly see the alpha’s face. Reese hadn’t taken his glasses; wasn’t riding the omega like one animal breeding another. John was _making love_ to him, even though they were both running on instinct for the most part. 

Finch wrapped his arms around John’s back, digging his nails into the firm skin and exulting in the op’s growl of satisfaction.

“My alpha…. _mine!_ ” Harold’s own voice was husky with possessiveness. “Take me, fill me up. Want you John!”

“Yours.” The alpha agreed, thrusting hard and fast. He shouted Harold’s name when he hit the omega’s prostate and felt Finch’s muscles tighten around his cock. “Want you, Harold….no-one else. Mine!”

John’s teeth clenched as he felt his knot pop and he pushed in deep a final time. Harold’s body stiffened as the bulge of tissue pressed against his omega glands and he gave a quiet “oh” of surprise as he orgasmed messily all over his stomach. 

The hot splash of Finch’s seed on his belly sent John over the edge and he ejaculated, hips thrusting in time with the pulses of his own orgasm, filling Harold up with semen.

The omega’s breath hitched as he rode out the aftershocks of their coupling. Harold felt possessed in a way he never had. John’s body covering his was comforting and protective. His spent organ was pressed between their bellies, tingling and pleasantly sensitive in response to the shift of skin against it.

Far from being stifling or restrictive, the alpha’s presence caused Finch to relax back into the bed, letting the pillows cradle his exhausted form. The alpha’s cock still twitched inside him, the occasional pulse of fluid sending a flush of warmth across Harold’s groin.

“You okay?” John’s whisper was gravelly.

“Yes…”

Reese propped his weight on his elbows to keep from squashing Harold. For his part, the omega kept his legs tightly wrapped around John’s waist.

“We’ll be here for a bit yet.” The alpha’s tone was almost apologetic.

“It’s alright John. I’m fine.” Finch, greatly daring, lifted a hand to cup the op’s cheek. John smiled down at him, turning his head just enough to kiss Harold’s fingers.

Harold smiled sleepily in response, his eyes closing as his breathing evened out.

"An omega's heat isn't just biology, Finch. You _chose_ me...wanted to share this with me.” John whispered again as Harold drifted off into unconsciousness.

“Thank you for giving me a chance."

The alpha kept watch over his omega’s sleep all night; making sure Harold was safe. 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

**_24 hours prior, undisclosed location_ **

"If you'd pulled this stunt a few years ago, I'd just have killed you and been done with things." The op circled the gurney, flicking the blade lock on his utility knife as he moved; the shining, heavy duty razor gleaming as it extended and retracted from the cast aluminum casing. 

The bound alpha fought his restraints, desperately trying to free himself. Reese leaned down to whisper in the frightened man's ear. "The only reason you aren't dead right now is because my friend Harold wouldn't like it." 

John's breath brushed Pierce's cheek. "That doesn't mean I don't have _other_ friends though....friends who aren't so reformed. What they decide to do might make you wish I _had_ handled things." He stood up and leaning casually against the wall, continuing the one-sided conversation.

"Vets have a procedure called 'elastration' which is routinely used on lambs and calves. They take a thick latex ring and stretch it; pulling it up around the neck of the scrotum before letting it snap back to its original size. Cuts off the blood supply to the testicles." 

Reese paused to stare down at his captive, relishing the knowledge now dawning in Logan's eyes. 

"No surgery, no anesthesia. Your balls just shrivel up and fall off in about twelve days or so. If the procedure is done while the animal is young, it's supposed to be painless. On larger animals, well...." John shrugged his shoulder as Pierce began to mouth obscenities behind his gag. 

The op looked past the gurney, nodding to a well-built, dark haired man accompanied by another person in a surgical gown and mask. Marconi returned the silent greeting, his cold smile pulling at the crescent shaped scar on his right cheek.

"Boss says we'll take over from here."

"Goodbye Logan." John Reese strolled towards the door without looking back, not even when the screaming started.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

NOTES: Thank you to all my readers who hung in there while I dealt with the worst bout of writer's block I've ever had in my life. This chapter was hanging over my head like the proverbial sword of Damocles for so long. I hope it was worth the wait & there will be one more chapter to come (perhaps with another look in on Logan Pierce....).

Bless you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy the update.


	8. True Reflections

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter VIII: True Reflections  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, non-con, abduction, forced bonding, graphic descriptions of medical procedures, kidnapping.

NOTE: This chapter picks up four days after the events at the end of chapter VII.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

“Do you mind?”

“Hmmm….mind what?”

“This.” Strong arms tightened around Finch’s waist. 

“Your heat’s ended I mean….“ John’s voice was hesitant.

Harold sighed, aware that he was feeling truly relaxed for the first time in almost thirty years. “You were wondering if I would dismiss you now that my needs have been satisfied.” It wasn’t a question.

The alpha’s embarrassed silence spoke volumes. Finch clumsily shifted, rolling over so that he was looking down at Reese. At some point, he’d removed his glasses to avoid damaging them in his more energetic couplings with the op. John automatically reached out to scoop them up from the nightstand, offering them to the recluse.

Clarity of vision restored, Harold studied the younger man’s face. John’s features were open; the lines of worry erased for the moment by the intimacy they’d shared. The blue eyes, which could be cold and unyielding as glacial ice now reflected contentment, albeit tinged with a spark of worry.

Harold’s own eyes were solemn as he regarded the alpha.

“I told you in the beginning that I was a very private person. I don’t trust easily, I haven’t for a long time and with good reason.”

The alpha lay silent beneath him, only the rapid beating of John’s heart betraying his anxiety. Harold watched him for a long moment, searching for just the right words.

“The one constant throughout all of the uncertainty and danger I have faced has been you, John Reese. You have always been there for me, not just as an employee or business partner but also as my friend.” Finch placed a hand on the center of the op’s chest. “And never have you abused that trust.” 

“Now that we have shared _this_ , I find yet again that my trust is not misplaced. I will never dismiss you.”

“Finch….” Reese’s whisper was reverent as was the touch of his hands as he stroked the omega’s shoulders.

“John”, Harold began, only to be interrupted by a chirp from his phone. He reached for it, his eyes widening as he listened to words gleaned from snippets of a million conversations.

“New number?”

“Yes,” Finch eased to the side of the bed, taking the alpha’s hand without hesitation to steady himself as he rose. “You shower first and I’ll have some initial intel by the time you’ve finished.”

John nodded, heading to the bathroom. They traded places not long after and when Harold emerged it was to find his partner dressed and ready to work. The op sipped coffee as he perused the bank and social media records of one Del Carson, a twenty-three year old waitress slash aspiring actor whose only obvious sin was spending more time of late going to auditions than serving coffee.

The omega once more found tea things laid out for him in the kitchen. A flush of warmth welled up in his chest that had nothing to do with the steam rising from his mug. John wasn’t hanging over him, insistent on sharing his immediate space or marking him as a territorial imperative. Nathan would follow him incessantly for days after his heat, rubbing his chin all over Harold’s neck and face…almost as if afraid their connection would suddenly vanish.

Reese’s gesture of providing necessities for Finch to make his morning beverage was caring rather than possessive and gave Harold food for thought as they discussed how to approach their newest irrelevant.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_twenty-four hours later_

John Reese watched their number from the building opposite her own. The vacant apartment made a convenient stakeout location and the op was grateful to be spared a night of standing on a cold, windswept rooftop.

The sound of an opening door registered at the corner of John’s awareness but most of his attention remained on the woman he had fixed in the lenses of his binoculars.

“I brought food.” Lionel Fusco plunked a drink tray and several paper sacks down on the flimsy dinette table. “There’s a truck parked around the corner. Best cheesesteaks in the city.”

The detective made his way over to the window and squinted over John’s shoulder. “What’s happening with Sarah Bernhardt?”

“Just turned in for the night.” The op stood up, stretching to work the kink out of his shoulders. He dug into the food. “Finch will monitor her apartment on audio and let us know if anything changes.”

Lionel grunted, unwrapping a sandwich and regarding the alpha thoughtfully as he chewed. The beta swallowed, clearing his throat as he steeled himself for a conversation he needed to have with Reese. 

“Speaking of him, how is the Professor?”

“Fine.”

“So…you and Finch, you’re uh-“

Blue eyes locked with Fusco’s own. “Not your business Lionel….” Reese’s voice was quietly dangerous.

The detective held his hands up. “Gotcha….not fishin’ here. It’s just good okay? That’s all I wanted to say. I think it’s good.”

John’s gaze turned speculative. “Why do you say that?”

Fusco shrugged, taking another bite of his dinner. “Makes sense. A compatible alpha an’ omega are more stable together. That makes the pack stable and all of us are stronger for it.”

“So Finch being omega _and_ packleader isn’t an issue?”

“Is it to you?” the beta countered.

“No.” John’s tone was decisive.

Lionel shrugged again, pulling chips out of one of the bags. “Then why would it be for me? I know who the brains of this outfit is, Wonderboy and sorry but it ain’t you.”

The detective smiled into his food as John was startled into laughter.

Finch, who had been privy to their conversation thanks to his audio link with Reese had alternated between acute discomfort and outright embarrassment. When he heard Lionel’s pronouncement and John’s laughter, all of those emotions melted away leaving him with a sense of puzzlement. Was it actually possible that this disaster might work after all?

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: Sorry this is a short chapter but I wanted to bang it out and post it before I get hip-deep into the holiday season. There will be more to come and I will try to get some of it up before Christmas but life being what it is…well…I can’t promise. Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday season!


	9. I See You...

Title: Hide No More  
Chapter IX: I See You......  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, verbal humiliation, discrimination, alphas being douchy

 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_John had proved good as his word, not altering his behavior toward Finch or the rest of their pack. The op continued to be protective of Harold but no more than in the past._

_To all outward appearances, nothing **had** changed between them. Finch had been right however when he said that it would affect their dynamic. Only a few days after they returned to the library, Harold found himself growing edgy. It took him the better part of a week to determine that his bouts of unrest coincided with the times when John was in the field. Although Reese never mentioned anything, he began leaving his coat or scarf behind while he was out…usually draped over a chair next to Finch’s workstation. _

_Harold found the alpha’s latent scent had a calming effect on him and would move the ‘forgotten’ garment to his own chair. Finch noticed that whenever John returned to the library he made a point of sitting beside the recluse as they compared details on the numbers. The alpha never actively scented Harold but even after only a short conversation John would be more settled._

_Finch’s omega side was flourishing in the company of an alpha he trusted and felt comfortable with. John’s alpha was steadied by the influence of a compatible omega that had implicit faith in him. Though nowhere close to being bonded the pair was, as Fusco had predicted, more stable and content._

_Along with these positives however had come a growing awareness of how the world at large regarded his alpha partner. He saw it through the camera feeds; overheard the veiled and overt flirtations through his audio link with Reese._

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

_present time, 4 weeks P.H. (post-heat)_

“You need to hurry up and find an alpha, dearie.” Matilda Brannigan, retired school lunch lady and their current number told him when they ‘met’ at an omega support group. The matronly seventy-five year old patted Finch’s knee in a ‘meant to be comforting’ manner. “You don’t have time to be choosy, you know.”

Harold had merely nodded as he surreptitiously cloned her phone. When the meeting ended, Finch wished her good afternoon, even as he fumed inside. _What none of them realize is I’ve already found an alpha that anyone would beg to know…_

Harold was still in a foul mood when he reached the library. Today had been the worst he’d endured so far in his ‘openly omega’ existence. He scowled, irritation making him pace restless circles around the reading room. 

Harold Finch had lived as a beta for so long that he’d lost touch in regards to how society viewed omegas. Ostensibly things were better now than when he was in college but still the perception that omegas, especially _male_ omegas were somehow less than betas and alphas, seemed as prevalent in society as it ever had been.

In the short time since his heat, the recluse had been forced to change his car service and come up with a new alias. Harold Eider’s status as an unbonded omega made him subject to many and vocal opinions on his presentation from almost everyone he met. Yes he had wealth, power, intelligence and access to unlimited information but even with all these he still felt diminished. 

_Eyes were upon him…everywhere. Assessing, judging, finding him lacking or weak or both. ‘Omega’ and a defective one at that. Old, broken, unbonded, unwanted. And then there were the speculative looks from alphas who saw him as easy prey. Good for a quick fuck, to take the pressure off when their own mates might be less than accommodating. Finch could feel them weighing the odds of acting on their impulses and getting away with it._

At least he could oversee IFT remotely from his computers. ‘Harold Wren’ had informed his colleagues and acquaintances via email that he was taking an extended sabbatical to clear his mind and consider a future outside the insurance game.

It rankled…of course it did. Nearly thirty years of beta status had been taken away from Harold virtually overnight. By an alpha. 

_An overprivileged, egocentric, knothead with a god complex. All of them were the same. Convinced they were superior to the rest of the world thanks to a lucky roll of the genetic dice._

Even as he thought it however, Harold felt a twinge of guilt. Not all alphas were like that. John wasn’t like that.

After the continual, casual humiliations of this day Finch was feeling more isolated than usual. He found himself reaching out for John’s scarf without realizing it, raising the length of knitted cashmere to his nose and inhaling. Harold closed his eyes as he rubbed the soft fabric along his neck, unconsciously layering it with his own omega essence. 

_“Finch? You here?”_ The sound of his partner’s voice echoing up the stairs and the tread of the other man’s shoes on the landing snapped Harold out of his reverie. He dropped the scarf and began re-shelving some books that were on the library cart. His back was to the door when John strode into the room. The op seemed to be in a jovial mood.

“Well that was unexpected, wasn’t it?”

“What was?” Finch’s curiosity almost got the better of him but he continued at his task.

Reese’s tone was puzzled. “You heard everything, didn’t you?”

“I only just arrived back from my rendezvous with Mrs. Brannigan and therefore have not been monitoring your activities.”

That pronouncement stopped John cold. Finch always listened, without fail…the op would be prepared to wager he did so even when in the bathroom. He focused all his attention on Harold. The omega’s posture was stiff, not from pain but suppressed emotion. His scent had a faint trace of bitterness. _He’s angry…something’s bothering him._ Then John’s eyes took in his scarf lying on the floor a few feet from where Finch was standing. _Oh….._

Harold had been out in the field all day, either assisting with their number or shoring up his cover for ‘Mr. Eider’. Add that to what John was observing and it didn’t take a genius to realize Finch had been on the receiving end of more than a bit of prejudice. Reese wanted to reassure the older man but the alpha knew he would have to tread very carefully.

“Well,” John kept his tone light as he moved a few steps closer. “It seems Matilda’s in home helper hit it big with a scratch off.”

That news was enough to penetrate Finch’s funk and he turned, book still in hand to stare at his partner. “What?”

John grinned. “I was there when she stopped to buy the ticket. Fifty thousand dollars. Now that she's got her own money, there's no reason to go after Matilda's. The first thing she did was leave a message on Brannigan’s answering machine to say she _‘expletive deleted’_ quit.”

Harold was nonplussed. Although this had happened a couple of times in the past, it never failed to catch the recluse off guard when fate overrode their intervention plans. He placed the book back on the cart. 

“Well, I’ll continue to monitor Mrs. Brannigan for a few days to make certain all is well.” 

Harold met John’s eyes at last and saw understanding in them. He glanced away, all his frustration welling up in him again.

“Finch….” The alpha faced him squarely and opened his posture just a fraction. _I’m here…._ it said…. _I’m yours._

Harold stood, wavering on the cusp of ignoring John’s unspoken offer and accepting comfort from him. He’d not expected the alpha to do so. Since the omega’s heat they hadn’t even been physically close. True, Finch had made no overtures to his partner and for his part, Reese sought no explanation for Harold’s keeping his distance.

The weight of society’s disapproval however proved too much for him and with a quiet sigh, Harold stepped into the alpha’s warm embrace. John’s only reply was a long slow exhale of relief as he held Finch close.

Harold’s arms wrapped around the lean waist, his fingers clutching Reese’s shirt as the op’s scent enveloped him. For the first time that day he felt safe and… _wanted_. A sense of belonging stole over Finch and his world was complete. Harold didn’t wallow in self-recrimination at giving into his omega instincts. He just accepted what Reese gave him and offered his own comfort to the alpha in return.

For a long moment they stood in silence, content in one another’s company. At last John chuckled, his chin resting on the crown of Finch’s head.

“What?”

“I just realized, I was planning on spending the night casing Brannigan’s apartment.” The alpha laughed again. “There goes my whole evening…ruined.”

Harold grinned, even as he disentangled himself from John. A sudden thought struck him and his tone turned serious. 

“I have season tickets to a private box at Lincoln Centre. The infrequent opportunities of downtime I have make this a convenient way to pass an evening.” Finch paused as though working up his nerve. “Tonight there will be a performance of the New York Philharmonic, Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony is being featured. Would you care to accompany me? If you have no other plans, of course.” 

John smiled. “My tuxes are all at the safehouse. How about I make us dinner first and we leave from there?”

Finch bobbed his head in agreement, his cheeks coloring as he realized their outing could be construed as a date. He covered his embarrassment by settling at his workstation. “Let me tie up a few loose ends and we can go.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll call Fusco and tell him to keep Bear out of trouble for the night.”

Harold nodded, distracted for the moment by his computers. In no time at all the two men found themselves in a taxi heading towards what both alpha and omega considered to be uncharted territory.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

NOTES: Holy crap this story is taking on a life of its own! I literally planned it to be maybe, _maybe_ four chapters at the most and here I am posting number 9. (SIGH) I don't know if I'll have the chance to post the concert interlude before Christmas but, as fate has given me the holiday gift of extra time off from work, I should be able to bang out chapters 10  & 11 very soon (I hope). 

Thanks to all of you who have stuck with 'Hide No More'. There will be a bit of angst ahead but I promise some groovy, fun, smexy times and a happy ending in Harold and John's future.

Happy Holidays Everyone!!!


	10. Looking Back At Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John & Harold go to the concert....

The Title: Hide No More  
Chapter X: Looking Back At Me  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Harold Finch/John Reese  
Tags: alpha/omega dynamics, explicit m/m sex, verbal humiliation, discrimination, alphas being douchy

 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

After a pleasant dinner, both men retired to dress.

John lingered in the bathroom of the smallest sleeping suite, taking extra care to remove the customary layer of stubble from his chin before indulging in a very thorough shower.

He knew Finch hadn’t intentionally meant their outing to be a date but that was no reason for the alpha not to look his best. John was surprised by the recluse’s offer; not to mention more than a little nervous. The last thing he wanted to do was come across as an alpha defending his territory….he had no right, after all Harold wasn’t his mate.

_John felt relieved when Finch accepted comfort from him. He assumed the omega would brush the gesture aside. The op took nothing for granted in regards to his interactions with Harold. He’d deliberately held back, waiting to see if the recluse would initiate any intimacies and, when none were forthcoming, accepted that Harold wanted to keep things as they had been._

Harold’s reactions today could merely be the after-effects of stressful circumstances. John shook his head, refusing to dwell on possibilities and outcomes as he buttoned his shirt. Finch had invited him out and by God he was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Finch stood in his own bedroom, fingers busy settling a cufflink about one wrist. He deliberately avoided looking at his reflection in the full-length mirror. Contemplating the thin pallor of his legs was not an activity he wished to engage in. The omega looked over towards the bureau and inadvertently met his own eye. He sighed as his gaze slid downward. The sight of his half-clothed body was almost enough to make him don his robe and go tell Reese he wasn’t feeling well.

Then Harold snorted in self-derision. _Are you assuming this evening could end with a liaison?_ He sneaked another look at himself. The alpha had seen Harold’s body from all angles and positions during his heat. Other than to reply to Finch’s comment about being broken, John had made no mention of his scars. Reese accepted them as part of Harold’s whole, not a defect or puzzle to be solved. 

Indeed, Finch had thought many times in the weeks after his heat about John’s treatment of him. Not once did he feel coddled or controlled by the alpha. Even Reese’s comforting hug earlier had been good and reassuring to Harold; making the omega wonder what being intimate with John might be like outside a heat. 

_Is that something I would be open to? Would John? I’ve certainly given him no indication that I wished to share his company again._ And, Finch acknowledged truthfully, that was due entirely to his own behavior. The alpha’s contact today had been warm and welcoming…Harold hadn’t missed John’s quiet sigh of happiness. He turned all these things over in his mind as he continued to dress. 

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Finch stared out the living room window at the darkening sky. He turned when he heard Reese’s footsteps and his eyes shone. The alpha was resplendent in his bespoke tuxedo. _Gianni truly **is** a genius…_

John stood silently hands at his sides, almost as if awaiting inspection from a superior officer. His appearance was nearly flawless, only the slightly crooked angle of his bowtie marring his otherwise perfect presentation.

Harold smiled, reaching up automatically to adjust the offending piece of neckwear. Reese’s own lips twitched in amusement.

“Highly skilled, international covert op agent and tying a scrap of silk gets the better of me every time.”

John looked his partner over as the older man stepped back. The omega had forgone his usual gray tweed waistcoat for a silk one in a striking pattern of gold and claret, complete with matching pocket square and a simple black bowtie.

“You look great Harold.”

Finch felt his cheeks flush as he slipped into his topcoat. 

“As do you, Mr. Reese.”

John shrugged into his own coat and looked at the over-sized, industrial clock gracing the fireplace wall. “Looks like we’re right on time.”

Finch nodded. “The car is waiting. If we go now, we should be able to get ahead of the _fashionably late_ crowd.”

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

Harold’s driver touched his cap to them after depositing the two men safely in front of the familiar arches of the concert building.

“Thank you Gerald.”

The driver inclined his head. “I’ll be here in ten whenever you’re ready Mr. Eider.”

John let Finch take the lead as they negotiated the beautiful lobby, at last reaching the section reserved for _elite_ donors. A suitably deferential usher presented them with programs as they entered the private box, pausing only to take their coats before withdrawing.

Reese looked around, taking in everything from the sideboard holding a silver water pitcher and tumblers to the partially drawn curtains screening them from possibly prying eyes in the boxes on either side.

The op was pleased to see a pair of leather covered club chairs in lieu of standard ‘theatrical’ seats placed at the box’s front rail. John sat down, settling happily into the chaise’s comfortable embrace.

Finch smiled, detecting the slight minty overtones of the alpha’s pleasure. The fresh, clean scent settled the omega’s nerves and he allowed himself to unwind at last. He studied his program with casual intent.

“Have you heard the _Pastoral_ before, Mr. Reese?”

John shrugged. “Just the bits from _Fantasia_ , like most of America.”

Harold’s lips quirked at the admission. “I admit I found the centaurs…intriguing.”

“I thought they were a little too perfect myself, like they’d just stepped out of a salon.”

“I was speaking of the _male_ centaurs.”

The op looked over to see Finch staring straight ahead, a faint tinge of color painting his cheek. John pictured a much younger Harold sitting in a dark, single-screen theatre in 1963, completely absorbed in the Technicolor spectacle. He would not yet have presented and John wondered if thoughts of becoming alpha or omega had even crossed the then nine year-old’s mind.

_Must have been a tough age to grow up in, especially for an intelligent and perceptive a person like Finch._

The house lights dimmed and applause filled the concert hall as the musicians took their places. The op caught his partner’s murmur of satisfaction and grinned. More than anything John wanted Finch to be able to relax for a while. He shifted his leg so that his shoe brushed Harold’s foot and was rewarded with a quick press against his own in return.

_Finch closed his eyes, allowing the swell of sound to wash over him. He always enjoyed letting the complex music direct his thoughts and if in this instance pictures of a centaur, its equine half glossy black with a touch of feathering gracing its fetlocks, whose human features bore a distinct resemblance to John Reese flitted through his mind…well, Harold wasn’t going to push away his flight of fancy._

_The alpha stared into the middle distance as he took in the beautiful melodies, his own imagination supplying him with images of a toga-clad Harold Finch teaching Latin to a group of attentive centaur foals, encouraging the youngsters in their lingual efforts. When the lesson ended it was John himself who appeared to give Harold a ride back to their home; Reese’s mind-world having cast him as the centaur mate of the respected scholar. He could all but feel Finch’s wiry arms encircling his torso as the recluse pressed his chest against John’s strong back._

**alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega-alphaomega**

 

NOTES: This is actually only half of what I wanted this chapter to be. The second half is still grinding its way into the real world and I can’t promise when it will appear. To tell the truth, I’m not really happy with this portion of it but I felt like I had to get something out since it has been so long since I’ve posted at all.

I just want my muse to come back……if you see the flighty bastard, tell him to get his feckless ass back home ASAP!


End file.
